


Into the Flames

by otakujessie



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Fanfiction, Manga & Anime, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2020-08-19 12:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 56,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otakujessie/pseuds/otakujessie
Summary: You've been hired out of the blue by a spoiled little brat, who says that he's on an important mission for the Queen, and you're not all too sure about him. Or his strange butler who's always hanging around by his side.Is this life really better than a life on the streets? And how much do the two of them know?The butler knows more than he's letting on-about your life, your abilities, and your dark secret that you've managed to keep secret all of this time. It's bound to be only time before he breaks through your defenses and accesses it all-every thought, word, and deed. All the things you've gone your entire life trying to hide.He could destroy it all.





	1. Chapter 1

“Take off your gloves.”   
I felt emotions flicker rapidly across my face at the words: disbelief, astonishment, and lastly, but the strongest by far, fear.   
“What are you saying?” I shook my head fiercely, the pounding in my ears louder than my frightened breaths, and shrunk back against the wall behind me, away from him. “You know why I can’t. You’ve seen it for yourself.”   
His crimson eyes flashed red in the candlelight and his mouth quirked up into the familiar dark smirk I knew so well. He held out a slender, gloved hand toward me. “F/N.” His fingers twitched, as if beckoning me toward him, but when he spoke, his low voice was just as unwavering as ever. “I am merely one hell of a butler. And you are not wrong to distrust me. But in this case, I would very much like you to.”   
I watched him warily, standing there before me, not a thing out of place, his dark suit pressed to perfection, his white gloves glistening, his lips still tilted upward in that damn smirk that took my breath away and irritated me all the same.   
Behind the fear still constricting my chest, I realized that another emotion was fighting to come through, and it reverbated a lot like the phrase the man in front of me had just uttered in his last statement.   
Trust.   
I trusted him.   
Before the fear could take over again and halt my progress, I raised a trembling, sheathed hand in front of me, and never removing my own eyes from his piercing scarlet gaze, I pulled my fingers from the glove one by one, the movements agonizingly slow, even to myself.   
Finally, I released the breath I had been holding, as I pulled the last finger from the satin material and let the now empty ghost of a glove flutter to the floor at my feet.   
His eyes lit up slightly, their bloody depths deepening momentarily, before he took a step toward me, his perfectly polished shoes not making a sound on the floor as he shortened the gap between us.   
Raising a slender, dark eyebrow at me, his mouth slid once again into that ever familiar sneer as he spoke, his voice almost a purr, his hand still outstretched toward me. “Very good, my lady. Very good indeed.” With a flash of movement, so fast I almost missed it, he stripped off his own glove, letting it drop swiftly to the floor beside my own discarded cover. The red inked seal on the back of his hand, revealed now that his glove was gone, seemed to shine under the flickering candlelight and his obsidian nails disappeared into the surrounding blackness, a stark contrast to his pale skin.   
I swallowed hard as I studied his hand, still extended toward me, and then glanced down at my own; bare, pale, uncovered, held closely against my body for protection-Whether mine or his, I didn’t clearly know.   
“It’s time, F/N.”   
His velvet voice penetrated my thoughts and I snapped my gaze back up to his, which felt as if it were boring a hole right through my chest and into my wildly pounding heart.   
I clutched my hand tighter against myself and felt fear start to boil, bitter, up into my throat again. “I can’t….I can’t do it…..what if I…..”   
He cocked his head to the side, his onyx hair falling over one eye, and the motion implied curiosity, as if he didn’t understand why I still hesitated. “You took off your glove. Which implies that, even if it’s not wise, you trust me in some form or the other. So there’s no reason for you to pause, if that’s true. You’ve decided to trust me, and that should be enough for you to do whatever I order without hesitation.”   
He was right. I had decided to trust him. I had come this far.   
I unclenched my naked hand from the fabric of my dress and raised it slowly in front of my body, until our outstretched fingers were mere inches apart-his steady and unwavering, mine trembling enough that I knew without a doubt he had noticed the vibrations across my skin.   
I met his stare once again and steeled myself, forcing my lips into a tight line as I steadied the shaking in my hand and then said in a firm voice, “All right.” I lifted my chin, hoping he could see the resolve in my eyes and the steel in my features. “I’m ready, Sebastian.”   
He actually smiled then, his sharp teeth glistening in the low light of the room, his pupils flashing into a vivid fuschia beneath the strands of dark hair that fell over his flawless face.   
And then he murmured the words.   
Words no one had ever said to me in my entire hellacious existence, the statement that had never been spoken in my presence, two words that would never willingly be uttered to me; a monster.   
He said them, out loud, his tone steady, confident, demanding, as if he wanted me to obey; no, needed me to obey.   
“Touch me, F/N.” 

******  
6 Months Earlier…..

I charged around the corner of the building and into the dark alleyway, my worn shoes skidding on the wet pavement, dyed dark from the rain that fell from the turbulent sky above London.   
Pushing wet, stringy hair off of my forehead, whether it was wet from sweat or rain, I didn’t know, I glanced behind me as I sprinted down the alley, cursing under my breath as I heard the baying barks of the dogs drawing closer. “Shit.”   
I turned another corner, the rain pelting my skin and face as I ran, and headed toward another alley, hoping to find a ladder or fire escape I could climb to be off the ground and away from the search party. That was the only way I was going to escape them this time.   
My breath came in hard gasps, making clouds of steam in the frigid air, as I pushed myself and pumped my arms harder, dashing across the open roadway and into the gaping maw of the dark alley across the street.   
Once I had entered the inky blackness, I allowed myself to slow down for a moment, resting my forehead against the cool, corroded stone of one of the buildings as I drew in lungfuls of chilly air, trying to mask the loud sound of my breathing as I struggled to catch my breath.   
When my breathing felt a little easier, I pushed up off the wall and, throwing my hood up and over my head again, started down the alley toward the building at the end, hoping I had put enough distance between myself and the police to have enough time to find somewhere to hide.   
Reaching the bricked wall that closed off the end of the alley, I glanced around in the darkness, the rain still pouring down steadily, making it even more difficult to find what I was looking for.   
“Come on, damn you.” In desperation, I began to run my hands along the wall, hoping I would feel a ladder I couldn’t see, even though I knew I was grasping at straws.   
Suddenly, I heard barking.   
I flung my gaze back to the entrance of the alley and saw the dim beams of flashlights shining through the drizzle, coming from the other side of the street, straight toward where I stood.   
“Shit.” I swore again and turned back to the wall in front of me, determined to pick up my search again, but more quickly this time.   
However, where there had been a wall before me a few seconds ago, there was now a man standing in front of me in the darkness.   
“What the hell?!” I jumped back from him, my heart leaping into my throat as the barking from behind me grew louder.   
He was tall and wore a suit, his hands gloved and glowing white in the black around us. He gave me a smile, no, more of a slight smirk, and held out a hand to me, his eyes a curious color of red as they flashed in the night beneath a head of obsidian hair. When he spoke, it was not what I had expected. His voice was calm, low, and flowed around me like water, his diction perfectly manicured. “F/N L/N? I’ve come to offer you a position. Room and board would be included of course.”   
I felt my jaw drop at his statement. What the hell was he playing at? Who was he? Did he think he could simply appear out of thin air and offer me a job and I would blindly take it?  
“Hey, over here!” I heard one of the cops call out, his voice muffled by the falling rain, and I knew they must be close to discovering the alley.   
I flicked my gaze back to the strange man in front of me, his head tipped, waiting in silence for my answer.   
I spit at his feet, anger bubbling up into my chest now that I had gotten over my initial shock and surprise. “I don’t need a stranger’s kindness. I don’t need your favors.”   
The man took out a handkerchief and calmly wiped it across his shoe, where some of my spit had landed, and then straightened, tucking the handkerchief back away in his pocket as he said pleasantly, not at all ruffled by my outburst, “Don’t think of it as what we can offer you. More, what you can offer us.”   
My heart had started to pound again. What was he talking about? He couldn’t know could he? No one knew.   
“Who the hell are you?” I managed to get out past the disbelief, my thoughts reeling from what he had just said.   
He offered me that same slight smile again, and reached out a hand once more, his gaze never leaving mine as he said steadily, “I don’t believe I have time to answer that right now, seeing as your ‘friends’ are almost here.” I realized the barking was almost upon us, but he seemed unrushed, continuing with, “However, if you come with me, my master will be happy to explain everything to you.”   
I glanced behind us, the hounds barreling in on our position, the flashlight beams lighting up the dark alley walls, the shouting of the policeman echoing off of the stark brick, and then back to the man in front of me, gloved hand outstretched.   
It was either trust him, or get torn apart by the dogs.   
And honestly, the first option seemed to be the better one at this point.   
With one more look behind me, I slapped my gloved hand into his own.   
“Take me to your master.”


	2. What Remains Unsaid

The only sound in the silent, dark corridor was the reverberation of the rain dripping off of my soaking clothes and hitting the tile beneath my feet. The sound, which shouldn’t have echoed in the least, was eerily loud in the silence that surrounded us.  
The man that had brought me here, I had begun calling him “The Suit” in my head, hadn’t uttered another word since we had left the alleyway behind and was just as stoic as he opened the large oaken door for me, pushing inward to reveal a dimly lit study beyond.   
He stood aside for me to enter, one arm held primly behind his back, the other with gloved fingers splayed against the wood of the door as he held it wide open, waiting for me to walk ahead of him.   
As I moved to access the room, The Suit finally spoke once again, his voice subdued and respectful as he addressed the study before us. “Young Lord, I have shown your guest here just as you have asked.”   
Without looking at who sat behind the large desk in the center of the cavernous room, I walked in, my steps leaving small puddles of water across the floor, as I turned slowly, taking in the grandeur of the decor around me.   
I whistled slightly under my breath as I took in the tall, finely polished shelves, piled high with books up to the ceiling, the brass and gold and silver of the candlesticks and pitchers and frames of portraits winking at me in the candlelight. “Well. You certainly have a nice place here.”   
I heard The Suit click the door shut quietly behind me, and I finally drew my gaze to the desk that stood before me, taking up much of the floorspace of the study, obviously the main attraction of this room. And then, naturally, my eyes traveled to the person who sat behind it. The other curious “attraction” of the room.   
I scoffed loudly as my eyes fell on this “Young Lord,” the supposed master of this house, and the man who stood wordlessly behind me. I turned my incredulous gaze to The Suit. “Is this a damn joke? He’s just a kid!”   
The kid behind the desk shot to his feet, drawing my attention back to him, as he knocked several chess pieces to the floor in his haste to stand. His one eye, I noticed now that the other was covered by a black eye patch hidden beneath the hair that hung over his forehead, flashed angrily in the light from the candles. “A kid? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”   
When I continued to hold his gaze, my lips pressed into a firm line, not rising to his jibe, he huffed in frustration and sat down again, hotly folding his arms across his chest as The Suit came to stand behind his chair. “I’m Lord Ciel Phantomhive, Head of the House of Phantomhive.” His words came out through clenched teeth, and the statement was final and resolute, as if that one sentence should clear up all my incredulity.   
I stared at him blankly for another brief moment and then raised a shoulder in half a shrug, disinterest clearly showing on my face as I said in a bored tone, “And? Should I know who that is?”   
Fury flashed across his good eye again, but only briefly, before he seemed to calm himself and when he responded, his voice fairly masked his anger as he quipped back, “You mean to say that you’ve never heard of me? The Queen’s personal guard dog?”   
I stepped toward his desk and dropped into one of the chairs before it, the velvet growing damp from my soaked clothes almost instantly, as I leaned back and steepled my fingers, an eyebrow raised as I addressed the kid sitting so haughtily before me. “Let me ask you something, Young Lord.” A sneer flashed across my lips as sarcasm dripped from the words of his title. “Do I seem to be the type of person that frequents affluent circles to you?”   
My eyes flicked up to the face of The Suit who stood behind the chair, watching our exchange with crimson eyes, but his expression belied nothing, he was as unreadable as ever.   
“Tsk.” I drew my attention back to the kid in front of me as he scoffed under his breath, the corners of his mouth drawing down in an expression of displeasure. “I don’t have time for shit talking. Fine. You’ve never heard of me.” He rolled the figure of the king from the chess set in front of him between his fingers, almost without thinking, as he continued, his voice holding a hard edge, “The only thing you need to know is, I have heard of you.”   
Shit. This was bad. So the little bastard and his loyal lapdog did know something.   
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, kid. What exactly are you referring to?” I kept the shakiness, the sudden clench of cold fear, out of my voice as I forced myself to stay relaxed into the cushions of the chair, my tone light. I raised an eyebrow and forced a chuckle out from between my teeth. “If you’re talking about my habit of taking things that aren’t mine…” I held up a gloved hand, revealing the queen figurine nestled in my palm, and began to flick it deftly between my fingers, holding his gaze, as my mouth curved into a smirk. “Then yes, you’ve probably heard of me. Everyone who’s anyone has. That doesn’t make you special.”   
I tossed the queen over the desk to him, our gazes locked, and he caught the chess piece in clenched fist, his eyes never leaving mine as he said cooly, “You know very clearly that that’s not what I’m referencing.”   
“Oh?” I feigned innocence once again, but I could feel my heart starting to patter in my chest. Damn them. How had they found out?   
He sat back in his chair, placing the king and queen pieces down on the desk in front of him, and was silent for a moment, as he fiddled with the figurines. The silence was electric, I could feel the tension creeping up with each second that passed.   
Finally, he spoke, and his single blue eye blazed, piercing me just as swiftly and dangerously as each word that fell unforgivingly from his lips.   
“I know about the burning.”


	3. A Secret Uncovered

I had expected the statement, I had known the words were coming.   
But still. It was jarring to hear them spoken aloud, their mere vocal presence making the air heavy around us.   
My jaw went slack with shock and I felt my mouth instantly go dry as I stared at the petulant child in front of me, sitting smugly behind his large desk.   
Who had told them? And what did they want with me?   
I closed my open mouth and swallowed hard, trying to rewet my throat before I attempted to speak. I knew there was no use trying to hide my emotions at this point. Both the little bastard across the table and The Suit had surely seen my blatant reaction to the statement they had just dropped on me without any warning.   
“Who….” The word came out cracked, hoarse enough that I cleared my throat and tried a second time. “Who told you?”   
“Does that really matter?” The kid spoke again, an annoying tone of triumph coloring his voice, as if he thought he’d already won by revealing my secret. He sat back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest as he studied me, his blue eye now swathed in shadows. “What matters is that I know. And that’s why I brought you here.”   
“Tsk.” I let a sound of annoyance slip out between my clenched teeth. “It was Bellamy, wasn’t it? I knew I should have killed him when I had the chance.”   
He ignored my query, instead motioning for The Suit to come forward. He stepped up to the desk at his master’s bidding and slid a piece of parchment across the wood toward me, as the brat continued, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “I want you to join us. Your little skill could prove to be useful.”   
I didn’t look at the document, instead, I kept my glare focused on the kid in front of me, who had now leaned forward again, as if waiting for my answer.   
“What is this? Some sort of contract?” I flicked my fingers at the paper on the desk between us, anger starting to break through into my words.   
How dare this little child think he could blackmail me into helping him. I wasn’t won over so easily, even if he did know my darkest secret.   
“Yes.” His tone was matter of fact, and I was surprised that he hadn’t responded to my anger with anger of his own. “It merely states that you will remain in my employment until the job I have for you is finished. And that by doing so, I will keep your secret between the three of us.”   
I let out a bark of laughter, disbelief flooding my tone when I spoke. “Really. So you think that’s all it takes for me to sign my loyalty away? An empty threat about a secret?”   
He sat back into his chair and mirrored my stance from earlier, his fingers steepled in front of him, his gaze still not leaving mine. “You’ve spent your entire life keeping this secret. And now I know it. So yes, I believe that’s enough to keep you in line.”   
I scoffed and sat back into my own chair, letting my arms dangle at my sides as I flashed him a smirk. “Well. I appreciate your cockiness. However. I’m not the type to enter into contracts with children.” I reached out and slid the contract back over the desk to him, knocking over the queen and king figurine as I did so. “Thank you so much for the offer, young lord, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”   
I pushed back the chair and stood, meeting the gaze of The Suit as I did so. His expression was still unreadable, but his eyes glowed a slightly brighter crimson than before, as if there was some sort of sinister light swirling in their depths.   
I offered him a slight salute, before I turned back to the kid sitting in silence at the desk, the unsigned contract before him, pale in the dim light of the room. I gave him an exaggerated and slightly mocking bow, a sneer on my lips, before I offered him my parting words. “Good luck with your mission, Ciel Phantomhive, the Queen’s guard dog and Head of the house of Phantomhive. I do hope we never meet again.”   
I turned on my heel and crossed the room. My hand was on the doorknob, when the kid spoke again, and something about his tone made me stop, frozen in my tracks completely against my will.   
“What if I offered you something else as well?”   
I forced out a laugh, even as chills went down my spine in reaction to the sinister undertone of his question. I answered without turning around, my frozen hand still resting on the doorknob. “And what could you possibly offer me that I would want, little boy?”   
“Revenge.”   
One word. Yet it reverbated and filled the space of the large room instantly, as if it had been a million.   
I felt my breath catch and I finally turned to face him, my hand falling limply at my side, sweat suddenly making my hands sticky underneath the gloves that hid them.   
Ciel Phantomhive was staring at me, his azure eye seeming to glow in the light from the candles, as he gazed directly into my soul. The corners of his mouth quirked upwards into a small smile, as if he understood, as if he too had experienced the intense desire accompanied with the following question that was to be uttered.   
“Well? You want to kill them, don’t you?”


	4. Contract of Revenge

We stared at each other, the boy and myself, for a moment of utter and complete silence, the air in the room heavy with anticipation.   
Thoughts were racing rapidly through my head following his question, thoughts that had no direction and no order whatsoever.   
He knew? He knew. Did he know where they were? How could he, he’s just a child. No way he could grant this wish. Or could he? How was I to know if I didn’t find out? I did want to kill them. I had wanted to kill them for as long as I could remember.  
Revenge. Hatred. Death.   
I physically shook my head, trying to clear the cacophony of thoughts from my mind, and focused back on the kid in front of me, his gaze still steadily on my face, the king figurine once again dancing between his fingers as he waited for my answer.   
I swallowed hard and clenched my hands into fists at my side, feeling the fabric of my gloves rub against the hot and sticky skin of my fingers. “How could you possibly know where they are?”   
I still didn’t believe it. I had searched for years. Nothing. And here was this kid, this child, offering what I had been seeking from the palm of his hand, as if it were the easiest request in the world.   
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he wanted to smile, or found my question amusing, before he said, his voice confident, “I’ve been a part of the Underworld for a long time. I have my connections. And besides.” He flicked his fingers at The Suit, who still stood silently and obediently at his shoulder. “Sebastian can find anyone that I desire.”   
I licked my lips, a nervous habit I had always given into, and unclenched my hands, stretching the fingers at my side as I studied the boy and The Suit, Sebastian?, in front of me.   
I struggled silently with the battle in my mind.  
What’s the worst that could happen? I do this one job for the kid and then I get what I’ve always wanted, no, needed. Revenge.   
But what if he didn’t keep his end of the deal? What if I was walking into a contract with a little bastard who would screw me over the moment my back was turned?   
But. Again. Could this be any worse than the life I had been living on the streets in the Underworld?   
I raised my head, setting my shoulders as I met his gaze once again. I took a step toward the desk and planted my hands palm down on the wood, my eyes never leaving his face. “All right.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but I forced myself to continue. “I’ll sign your contract. But.” I held up a hand, a finger raised in the air. “How do I know you’ll follow through once we’re finished?”   
Ciel Phantomhive allowed a small smirk to slide across his lips as he reached for the contract in front of him, pulling a pen from his breast pocket as he did so. “You have my word. I swear on the House of Phantomhive and my dead parents’ graves.” He signed the bottom of the contract with a flourish and then slid the papers and pen across the desk to me.   
I glanced up at Sebastian, who still stood silently behind the young lord, and noted that he was following our movements intensely, a slight smirk gracing his lips as he did so, never saying a word. His eyes were deep crimson in the light of the candles as he watched me pick up the pen and hold it over the contract. I took in a deep breath, forcing my gloved hand to remain still and not waver, and signed the paper.   
As soon as I was finished with my name, the kid motioned to Sebastian, who leaned over and collected the contract, rolling it up neatly before sliding it into his suit jacket. He stepped back as Ciel pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, his gaze suddenly disinterested as he casually flicked his fingers in my direction. “Good. We’re done here for tonight. Sebastian will show you to your quarters.”   
I opened my mouth to retort at his bored tone when regarding me, but before I could say anything, Sebastian had appeared beside me, a candlestick held in his hand, and ushered me toward the door, opening it silently into the dark hallway beyond.   
I glanced behind me as the door swung shut, and caught one last look at Ciel Phantomhive, standing, silhouetted against the dark window, gazing out silently into the night.   
The door clicked shut and I followed Sebastian down the long corridor and deeper into the huge Phantomhive mansion. I tried to remember what turns and halls we took to get from the study to my room, but honestly, it all felt like a maze, and though the darkness of the night wasn’t helping, I was sure that even in the daytime I would have a high possibility of losing my way.   
We reached a large, dark wooden door at the end of one of the passageways, and Sebastian looked over his shoulder at me as he pushed it open, revealing a stately bedroom beyond. The candle flickered as I followed him in, a slight draft coming in through the open window, and making me shiver involuntarily.   
Sebastian set the candlestick down on the dresser and crossed the spacious room to the open window, sliding it shut with a seamless click, before he turned back to me, a slight smile gracing his lips. “This will be your room while you are staying with us, Lady (L/N).”   
I walked around the room, taking in the absolute gluttonous wealth that was reflected in the decor, and running my hand absentmindedly over the elegant quilt that covered the bed, I asked, “If anyone asks, why am I here? At the Phantomhive mansion?”   
Sebastian’s crimson eyes followed me as I continued circling the room, his hands held properly behind his back, not moving a muscle as he stood beside the dresser. “Ah, yes. You are a distant cousin of the Young Lord. You are simply visiting for a summer holiday.”   
“And he thinks this will work? Passing me off as a reputable lady?” I scoffed at his statement, stopping at the large wardrobe that stood across the room from the bed. I threw open the doors and was instantly barraged by a wave of silks and taffetas and velvets and lace in every color imaginable.  
I stood, frozen, horrified by the sight before me, as Sebastian spoke up again from across the room, his voice holding a somewhat amused tone. “Trust me, Lady (L/N). The Young Lord has taken everything into consideration. He even had dresses brought in from the finest dressmakers in London for your charade.”   
I slammed the wardrobe doors shut and glared at Sebastian, who regarded me with an unreadable expression, his body still encased in stone. “How kind of him. And how did the young lord know I would even agree to this in the first place?”   
The butler’s lips quirked upward into a crooked smirk as he finally moved, picking up the candle from the side table, and making his way toward the door. “But you did agree, didn’t you, Lady (L/N)?”   
I felt my mouth drop open. He was right. I didn’t have a leg to stand on. I had done exactly what that little bastard had predicted I would. I had walked right into their trap, and I had even shut and locked the door myself.   
Before I could gather my wits to respond to him, Sebastian opened the door and with one last glance over his shoulder at me, standing, gaping, in the center of the room, he smiled once again and said in a low voice, “Good night, Lady (L/N). Have pleasant dreams.”   
And with that, he closed the door behind him, plunging the room into darkness and leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts.


	5. Beneath the Surface

I was woken by the sound of drapes being pulled back and streaming sunlight suddenly hitting my face.   
I groaned and jerked the blanket up over my head, trying to shield myself from the bright light, before I realized that someone was making noises in the room, and not subtly.   
The wardrobe door banged open and I angrily threw the blanket off of myself, coming upright as I squinted into the morning sunlight coming in through the window and growled under my breath, “Who the hell…..”   
“Oh, my lady! You’re awake!”   
The overly cheerful voice rang loudly in my ears and caused me to wince, as I realized that I now had a headache coming on. I swiveled my head toward the far side of the room, my eyes still slitted against the light, and noticed for the first time who had been making all of the racket.   
The girl, her shockingly pink short hair peeking out from underneath her maid’s cap, her large coke bottle glasses reflecting the sun like a spotlight, hurried to the side of the bed. She dipped a clumsy curtsy as she bowed her head to me and said, “The young master has sent me to ready you for the day and bring you down for breakfast.”   
I finally unfurrowed my brow and allowed my eyes to open fully as I watched the girl come to her feet in front of me, her hands tucked neatly in the pockets of her apron, as she waited for me to respond. I cleared my throat, still thick from sleep, and then asked, “And who are you?”   
“Oh!” The girl flushed a bright red and dropped back down into another curtsy, her movements flustered. “How rude of me, very rude, yes! I am Mey Rin. The young master has assigned me to assist you for the time you’re here with us, Lady Bellamy!”   
I scoffed under my breath, quietly enough that the maid wouldn’t hear. Of course Sebastian had remembered me mentioning Bellamy and had used the name as my disguise. Hopefully for him, and for me, Old Bells didn’t actually have any nobles in his family lines, or we’d all be in trouble when he got whiff of the “Lady Bellamy” hanging around London.   
I realized I had been silent for a few moments too long, lost in my thoughts, and that things between us had grown awkward as the young maid waited for my next instructions. I swung my legs over the bed, stretching my arms and gloved hands above my head as I stood, and then motioned to the girl. “Well then. I guess you’d best help me get ready for the day.”   
Mey Rin nodded so vigorously I thought her glasses might fall from her face, but they remained securely in place as she dashed to the attached bathroom door and opened it for me, motioning inside as I walked toward her. “Yes, yes! I’ve already drawn you a bath. Please take your time.”   
The steam from the bathroom washed over me as I entered the room, smelling of lilac and rose, and as Mey Rin entered behind me, I had to remind myself that I was playing the part of a noblewoman. A noblewoman would not gape at the large, marbled bathroom before her, the deep porcelain tub that took up an entire corner of the room, filled to the brim with steaming water and floating petals. No, to a noblewoman, this would be an everyday occurrence, routine, a bore even.   
I tried not to stare at the splendor that surrounded me as Mey Rin helped me out of my night clothes. When she moved to remove my gloves, I pulled my hands away from her, the sudden movement startling both of us. I tried to recover the moment, giving her a small smile as I hurried to come up with an explanation for my odd behavior. “I always prefer to remove my gloves myself, Mey Rin. They were a special gift from my father. They’re very precious to me.” The lie fell from my lips as easily as if it were the truth.   
Mey Rin nodded, seeming to have recovered from her shock, and watched as I pulled the gloves from my hands, folding them carefully before placing them delicately on the table beside the tub.   
When I was done, Mey Rin helped me step into the bath. The water swirled around my calves, the petals sticking to my damp skin, as I lowered myself slowly into the warm pool. The oily water washed over my shoulders in opalescent waves as I sank up to my chin into the bath, letting out a low sigh of contentment as the pleasant aroma that mimicked a garden in spring filled my nostrils.   
Mey Rin set a fluffy, pristinely white towel on the stool next to the bath and then ducked her head to me as she backed from the room, calling out to me, “Please let me know when you’re finished, my lady. I’ll just be next door, readying your outfit for the day.”   
She pulled the door shut behind her with a soft click, and all at once, I was alone once again.  
I let out a long breath and leaned my head back against the cold porcelain of the tub, my eyes tracing the patterns that ordained the ceilings above me, hazy and obscured with steam.   
I raised my hands out of the bath water, a few of the petals stuck to the wet skin, and studied them for a moment.   
They should have been dirty. Filthy, even. Dirt under the nails, in the crevices of the knuckles, worn and calloused palms. Torn and cut from a life in the Underworld of London.  
But they weren’t.   
There wasn’t anything on my hands to show that they had ever been used. Not by a normal person. The gloves prevented any wear and tear, kept my skin enveloped and untouched, soft, clean, new, innocent, even while they hid my dark secret.   
I let them drop back under the surface of the water, away from sight, and sunk deeper into the bath, closing my eyes as I submerged myself fully.   
Under the surface, everything was quiet. The only sound was the water moving around me. The rest of the world’s sounds were dulled and far in the distance, they couldn’t reach me here. And I wondered, for a brief moment, what would happen if I just stayed here, silent, under the water, never coming up for air again. Would it always be this quiet? Or would my thoughts eventually grow louder than the quiet and drive me mad?   
Breaking through the surface, I opened my eyes, water cascading down my cheeks and over my lips, sticking on my eyelashes as I blinked to clear my vision. I pushed myself up and out of the tub, the heavy, warm air of the bathroom clinging to my skin as I reached for the towel, and even in the temperature of the room, as I wrapped the towel around myself and quickly pulled on my gloves, I shivered.   
I knew the answer to my silent question. The thoughts were always too loud. Even in a crowded room, they drowned everything else out and drove me mad. One day, in the quiet, they would succeed.   
I pulled the towel closer to my chest and hurried out of the bathroom, leaving the pearly surface of the water lapping at the edges of the tub, almost like a whisper, as I shut the door behind me on the water and the beckoning silence beneath its surface.   
Mey Rin stood next to the wardrobe, in front of a long mirror, and as I entered the bedroom, she turned to face me, smiling as she held up a pair of clean undergarments and petticoats. “I’ve everything ready for you, my lady!”   
Dropping the towel at my feet, I stepped into the undergarments and then the petticoats. I had never worn anything like this. No, wait. That was a lie. I’m sure I wore things like this when I was younger, but seeing as how I had blocked those memories from my mind, this was almost like the first time.   
I rolled my eyes as I thought of Sebastian and his obvious disdain for the clothes I had been wearing the night before. The dirty pants, the shirt and jacket two sizes too large, the shoes with holes in the toes. The only part of my outfit I had ever taken pride in was my gloves. They were long and made of a thick, dark velvet, encasing my fingers and forearms perfectly. I kept them spotless and if they ever showed signs of wear, I replaced them immediately. ‘  
Everyone in the Underworld had known who I was when they caught sight of the gloves.   
While lost in my thoughts, Mey Rin had fitted a corset around my middle and pulled me from my own mind as she said cheerily, “All right, my lady. Hold onto the armoire there. This will only take a minute, yes!”   
I did as she instructed, and before I had time to react, she pulled on the two strings of the corset, cinching the garment around my waist so tightly that I lost my breath for a moment or two. “Shit!” I swore under my breath, the loss of breath almost making me yelp the word loud enough for Mey Rin to hear. She pulled again, yanking on the lacing as she deftly and quickly wove the ends up through the corset in an intricate pattern, tightening as she worked upwards.   
She finished and stood back, observing her handiwork. She clapped her hands and squealed, “Oh, my lady! You have the tiniest waist, you do! So petite!”   
I leaned on the armoire for a second longer, catching my breath, and then straightened, trying to get used to the feeling of my ribs being bound so tightly to my body that I thought they might pop through my skin at any moment due to the pressure. I grimaced slightly, trying to hide my discomfort from Mey Rin. Come on, (F/N). Play the part. Noblewomen apparently don’t need to breathe, so neither do you.   
Mey Rin practically skipped to the wardrobe and threw open the door for the second time that morning, the loud bang of the wood hitting the wall reverberating around the room. She reached inside, rummaging around in the dozens of brightly colored dresses, before exclaiming excitedly, “Here they are, yes! These will look lovely on you, Lady Bellamy!” She pulled out two dresses and held one in either hand, and I imagined her eyes were gleaming with anticipation behind her thick glasses as she waved them around before me, her voice shrill from excitement as she said, “Which would you like to pick? They’ll both compliment you beautifully of course! That pale, flawless skin!” She practically swooned as she motioned to my face and bare shoulders.   
I bit my tongue as I looked at the dresses she held up for me to evaluate. Neither was my style. Hell, I hadn’t worn a dress since I was probably five years old. I was much more at home in a pair of trousers. I berated myself silently. Just pick one. You have to wear one. Just get it over with and stop dragging it on.   
I glanced between the two dresses again, biting my lip as I tried to decide which was the lesser of two evils.   
They were both long, draping to the floor in elegant folds, but the first was made out of a heavy brocade fabric, ruby in color, inlaid around the bodice with shimmers of gold and silver thread criss crossing in elegant patterns. The pattern snaked suggestively around the waist, meant to hug and accentuate the curves of the wearer no doubt, and ended at the hips, giving way to the full skirt, which was gathered at the left side, cascading down the hip and leg in waves, much like a waterfall, to the feet.   
I moved my gaze to the other dress that Mey Rin held aloft. It was made of a lighter fabric than the first, what appeared to be a pink chiffon, delicately covered with a layer of cream lace. The bodice was beaded, not heavily, but enough that it caught the light when moved, and the waist was encircled with a pink ribbon. The full skirt rippled in the light from the window, the pink fabric beneath the lace flashing through every now and then, and whereas the other dress was gathered, this dress fell naturally to the floor, held in no such formation.   
I rolled my eyes, trying not to let Mey Rin see my agitation, and finally, flicked a finger begrudgingly at the pink dress. “This one will be fine, Mey Rin.”   
Mey Rin nodded and placed the crimson dress back into the wardrobe, shutting the door before she turned back to me, slipping the chosen dress off of its hanger carefully. “You will look lovely in this, yes.” She pooled the dress out around my feet and held the neck wide so that I could step into the opening she had made.   
I tried to hold as still as possible as she pulled the dress up around me, moving the fabric effortlessly over my hips and up around my shoulders. I slipped my arms through the sleeves, and as Mey Rin moved to start fastening the long row of buttons that ran up my back, I was slightly caught off guard by the reflection of myself in the mirror in front of me.   
The dress fit me perfectly, the buttery smooth fabric flowing down and around my body as if it were water, and as Mey Rin finished the last of the fasteners, she moved onto my hair, pulling it up quickly and efficiently at the nape of my neck, finishing it off with a beautiful comb adorned with pearls. She stepped back from me, admiring her handiwork, and said happily, “There. You look amazing, my lady.”   
I almost didn’t hear her statement. I was still staring at myself in the mirror. Who was this person? The dark gloves were the same, covering the hands up to the elbows, lying limply against the sides of the dress. But nothing else was recognizable.  
I was pulled from my thoughts by the sound of a knock at the door, and turned to see Sebastian enter the room, his crisp uniform and stance just as infallible as I had remembered from the night before.   
He bowed to us, a slight smile upon his lips, and then said, “Mey Rin, if you are finished with the Lady Bellamy, I have been asked to escort her down to breakfast with the young master.”   
I glanced over at Mey Rin, whose cheeks were flushed as she avoided looking at Sebastian, before saying in a slightly bashful tone, “Yes, yes, Sebastian! My lady is ready for you.”   
“Good.” Sebastian walked over to me, where I still stood in front of the mirror, and offered me his arm. “Well then, my lady. Shall we go? The Young Lord does not like to be kept waiting.”   
Before I could say anything, he had whisked me from the room, shutting the door silently behind us.   
We walked down the corridor in silence, neither one of us saying anything. I was too focused on trying to walk in the long dress and petticoats without tripping that I couldn’t even think to form any words at the moment, and without consciously realizing it, I tightened my grip slightly on the crook of Sebastian’s arm, just in case I wasn’t successful and took an embarrassing tumble.   
We had rounded the corner and begun to head down the long flight of stairs to the foyer before Sebastian finally spoke. “Has everything been to your satisfaction so far, my lady?”   
I took another step down the stairs, praying I wouldn’t fall, and replied, a touch of sarcasm coloring my words, “I mean. I’ve been here one night. And I’m kind of obligated to stay here due to a contract. But other than that, I guess it’s been fine.” I kept my gaze locked on my feet as I took another stair downward. “It’s a step up from the streets, but not by much. And I have to wear this ridiculous outfit, which honestly? I’d take the streets over this.”   
“Ah yes.” We reached the end of the staircase and Sebastian steered us across the foyer toward the dining room. “The outfits. I was almost positive you would pick the red dress. Tell me, my lady, why didn’t you?”   
I stopped short of the dining room doors before Sebastian could push them open, and stared at him, indignation flashing across my face as I released his arm and took a step back from him. “Excuse me? First off, you don’t get an opinion on what I choose. Secondly, how did you know the other dress was red?” My mouth dropped open in realization. “Were you watching us?”   
At the statement, I felt a rush of heat come into my cheeks. If he had been watching my room, then the bath….and getting dressed…..and…..  
Sebastian ignored my questions and opened the large wooden doors that led to the room before us, stepping back behind me when he was done so that I could enter the room first, although I didn’t move, my mind still racing over what I had learned.   
Suddenly, his lips were next to my ear, his breath warm against my skin as he murmured, “Please, my lady. What do you take me as? I am a proper gentleman and merely one hell of a butler. I do not spy on my master’s guests. However.” He placed a hand at the small of my back, guiding me gently forward, as his voice remained low so that only I could hear. “I am of the opinion that you should have gone with the ruby gown. The innocence of pink does not suit you. You are much more suited for the passionate and unpredictable virtues of crimson.”   
I opened my mouth, my breath caught in my chest, to reply to him, but before any words could escape past my lips, we were inside the dining room, and Sebastian, with a flourish of his hand, pulled my chair out for me.   
And as he did so, I noticed the familiar smirk from last night cross his lips. His eyes flashed crimson as he met my gaze, only briefly, and I suddenly understood what he had been talking about just moments before.   
The color crimson was hauntingly beautiful.   
But danger was never far behind.


	6. Proof of Loyalty

Ciel Phantomhive didn’t even spare me a glance as I sat down at the table. His gaze remained focused on the paper in front of him, his eyes trailing back and forth across each line of typeset, as he absentmindedly took a sip from a teacup at the end of every paragraph.   
Sebastian silently set down a plate in front of me, and as the smells of the hard boiled egg and pastry reached my nose, I realized that I was absolutely famished. My stomach growled in the quiet of the room, but I refrained myself from reaching for the food until Sebastian had set down a teacup in front of me, full to the brim with steaming liquid.   
I nodded to him as he stepped away from the table to stand behind his master’s chair, and then, unable to contain myself any longer, grabbed the pastry from the plate, stuffing some of the flaky bread into my mouth. It was all I could do not to let out a moan of pleasure as the croissant melted away on my tongue, leaving a hint of sweetness behind, clinging to my lips and teeth.   
I took another bite and this time, I was met with a sharp contrast of flavor. What was it? It took me a moment of thoughtful chewing before it clicked. Lemon. There was lemon custard filling the inside of the pastry. And I realized, in the same moment, that I had eaten these as a child, before ...well, before everything.   
“You eat like a starving dog.”   
The boy’s pitched voice drew me away from the deliciousness of the baked good before me, and as I flicked my gaze up to his, which still hadn’t left the paper in front of him, I thought about sticking my tongue out at him for just a brief moment, before I decided on saying nonchalantly, my voice flat, “Did you know that a starving dog can rip the flesh from a human corpse in just under five minutes? Terrifying, isn’t it?”   
His gaze lifted to mine for the briefest of moments and I flashed him a smirk, watching as anger flickered briefly across his face before he returned to his paper.   
I stuffed the rest of the pastry into my mouth and then wiped the crumbs from my chin and dress as I reached for the teacup, feeling satisfied that I had fully annoyed him for the first time of many today. Taking a sip of the still steaming tea, I was caught off guard by the rich flavor of the drink. This wasn’t normal tea. This was something else entirely.   
Sebastian must have noted my minute facial expressions after my first sip, because he volunteered in a perfectly clipped voice, “Do you like the tea, my lady? The leaves have been brought in personally for my young lord from the fields of India.”   
I set the cup down in its saucer, the china rattling a bit, and glanced over at Sebastian, who still stood unmoving behind the kid. “It’s a little rich for my taste.”   
I hoped the brat had caught my jibe behind the uttered words.   
As if on cue, he let out a long sigh and finally laid the paper down in front of him, folding it neatly as he did so. His one eye met mine and we stared each other down for a moment, practically daring the other to look away first.   
After a long moment, he spoke, his voice short, his fingers drumming impatiently on the newsprint in front of him. “Enough chit chat. You will prove yourself to me tonight. I want to make sure that I haven’t entered into a contract with an incompetent.”   
I snorted under my breath. “Chit chat? Odd choice of words.” I leaned back in my chair, watching him intensely, as I reached for the boiled egg. “I don’t need to prove myself to anyone, and especially not to you. You know what I’m capable of, or you wouldn’t have sought me out. You came to me, remember?”   
The boy ignored my goading, leaning toward me and lowering his voice to a dangerous level as he said, “Watch yourself. You’re under my command until our contract is fulfilled. Don’t forget that.”   
I rolled the boiled egg between my gloved fingers as I studied him for a moment, his uncovered eye never leaving my own, before I finally chuckled dryly and said, “Fine. I always honor my word. But I will never bow before you, little boy. You are not my master. Don’t you forget that.” I stopped the motions of the egg, our glares sending daggers between us, before I continued, “Now. Tell me what you need me to do.”   
Ciel sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze dark and once again unreadable as he announced, “We’re holding a ball here. Tonight. At Phantomhive Manor.” He motioned for Sebastian, and the butler stepped forward, bowing slightly as he handed me an invitation on heavily embossed parchment.   
I skimmed the words etched in gold ink.  
‘Cordially invited…..Phantomhive Manor…..Lady Bellamy’s Debut…..London Season…..’  
I glanced up at the boy, who was watching me silently from across the table, the pieces clicking into place in my head as I rubbed the thick paper of the invitation between my fingers. “A ball. To announce your dear cousin.” I flicked the invite across the table to him and he caught it nimbly in his fingers. “I’m guessing there’s a certain guest you’d like me to entertain more than the others?”   
He handed the invitation back to Sebastian, who tucked it out of sight inside his suit coat, and then said, “You catch on quickly. Yes. Lord Nicholas Irvine. Sebastian.” The kid’s voice changed to an order as he said the butler’s name.   
“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian leaned forward, putting another piece of paper into the boy’s outstretched hand.   
Ciel flipped the paper back over the table to me. I caught it easily and glanced down at the man in the photograph. He was imposing, tall, mid thirties, perfectly groomed and coiffed hair and mustache. I could tell by the suit he wore that he was ridiculously wealthy. And his eyes, dark, hard, holding an edge, a secret.   
“Irvine is operating a certain drug cartel within the shadows of London. I need information from him on his operation. It’s a piece in the bigger puzzle.”   
I flicked the photo of the man between my fingers, not really looking at what I was doing, lost in my thoughts for a moment before I spoke again. “Easy enough. I’ll get him alone. Lower his defenses. And then I’ll get him to spill the info.”   
I looked over to Ciel as he reclined back in his chair once again, his dark hair falling over his blue eye, blocking my gaze from his as he said, “Good. Sebastian will be nearby if you should run into any trouble.”   
I laughed slightly, dropping the photograph onto the table in front of me as I stood from my chair. When I spoke, amusement dripped from my words. “Trust me, young lord, I can take care of myself.”   
I glanced over at Sebastian briefly, and noted that his crimson eyes were focused on me, even though he still remained like a statue behind the chair of his master. I raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say anything, our gazes locked for several brief seconds, before I turned to leave the dining room.   
“Remember.” Ciel’s voice called out after me, causing me to stop for a moment in my tracks, my hand on the door knob into the hallway. “This is a test. And I don’t like to be disappointed.”   
I felt a sneer cross my lips as I glanced over my shoulder to meet his piercing gaze. “Oh, trust me, my lord.” I held up my hand, spreading my fingers to show him the photograph placed neatly between them. “I’ll give Nicholas Irvine a very warm welcome. Something he’ll never forget.”   
With one swift movement, I brought my other hand up, the butterknife from the table clenched in my fist, and nailed the photo of the Nicholas Irvine to the door in front of me, the blade piercing directly between his two perfectly manicured eyebrows with a hollow thud.   
Then, without looking back, I left the room, shutting the door behind me on the two men.   
A humorless smile lifted the corners of my lips as I walked down the dark corridor.   
Yes, Nicholas Irvine was going to receive all of the Lady Bellamy’s attentions.   
And when the gloves came off, I would make sure as hell that he regretted it.


	7. Events of the Evening

Later that evening, a few hours before the ball was supposed to begin, Mey Rin returned to my room to prepare me for the event ahead.   
I stood in front of the full length mirror once again as she situated petticoats and tightened corsets and fluffed underskirts. When everything seemed to have been readjusted at least a hundred times, she finally stepped back, seeming to be pleased at last with her handiwork, and flashed me a large smile, her glasses beaming in the setting sun coming in through the window. “Now, my lady, which dress shall you wear? It’s a very big event tonight, yes it is! Your debut is not something to be taken lightly. Of course, I’m sure you shall be stunning in anything you wear, yes!”   
I studied myself in the mirror for a moment, running a slender gloved hand up the line of my waist and across the pale, revealed skin of my breast that showed above the line of the corset. I needed to be at my most alluring tonight. I needed Nicholas Irvine to want me so badly that he could hardly contain himself. I lifted my chin, refocusing my gaze on Mey Rin as I said confidently, “I need to look my best tonight, Mey Rin, of course you’re right.” A coy smile flickered across my lips, a hint of mischief dancing in my eyes. “Find the gown in the boudoir that has the lowest neckline. Plunging, even. I’d like to show off some of my best assets to the many wealthy and eligible men of London who will be vying for my attention this evening.”   
Mey Rin hurried to the wardrobe and dug through the dresses, flinging aside taffeta and chiffon and velvet before she emerged triumphantly from the depths of the many colored dresses, holding aloft her find for me to approve. “Here we are, my lady. The most daring dress of all, if I do say so myself.”   
She brought the dress to me and held it out, so that I could look it over and make sure it earned my approval before we started the arduous task of putting it on. I reached out a gloved hand and ran it down the front of the dress, noting the finely embroidered satin and the pleating of the fabric around the waistline. For a brief moment, as my eyes ran down the length of the emerald dress, I felt a sting of sadness. I was suddenly sure that the fine and ridiculously expensive fabric would feel amazing under my bare fingers. I was acutely aware in that moment that there were many things that would feel amazing under the skin of my fingertips, yet the gloves, keeping me safe, protected, separated me from all of that.   
And most of all, more than anything, human skin.   
Pulling myself from the dark turn my thoughts had taken, I glanced up at Mey Rin and gave her a slight nod, pasting a smile on my lips as I said, “Yes, this is perfect, Mey Rin. Exactly what I was hoping for.”   
She blushed under my praise and stuttered out a thank you, before she began removing the dress from its hanger and readying it for my body. I looked back into the reflection of the mirror, not really seeing anything anymore, as I stepped into the gown and Mey Rin pulled it up around my waist.   
“Um. My lady?”   
Mey Rin’s voice pulled me once again from my brooding. I met her hesitant gaze in the reflection of the mirror as she worked the dress around my corset and up onto my shoulders. “Yes?”   
She blushed again, her cheeks going pink, and looked down at her feet, her hands frozen now against my back. “Can I ask you something?”   
I raised an eyebrow at her, even though she was no longer meeting my gaze, and shrugged a shoulder slightly. “Sure. I’m not opposed to questions.”   
Her fingers began moving again, pulling the corseted waist of the dress close against my hips as she laced upward. “This morning, when I helped you dress after your bath, yes?” She pulled on the laces, causing me to catch my breath as she cinched inward, tighter, before continuing. “I couldn’t help but notice the scars on your back, my lady.” She rushed through the last few words, as if worried I would suddenly rebuke her before she could finish her sentence.   
I was caught off guard for a moment. There was a moment of silence between us as I gathered my response, and then I said, “Oh. Yes. It’s okay, Mey Rin, I’m not angry that you asked about them.” I waited until she met my gaze again in the mirror and gave her a soft smile. “Honestly, I don’t even remember those are there anymore. I got them when I was very young. In a horse riding accident.”   
Only one part of that statement was a lie. Honestly, I didn’t hardly think about the scars that criss crossed my back anymore. The memories were still fresh and painful, but the scars had healed well, and were no more than silvery streaks of flesh against the rest of my pale skin.   
“Thank you for not being angry at my impertinence, my lady. You are very kind, yes.” Mey Rin bobbed her head to me as she finished lacing up the back of the gown and reached for a pin to pull up my hair at the back of my neck.   
I held out a hand to stop her. “No, that’s all right, Mey Rin. Leave it down.” My hair was one of my best features, and I needed everything in my favor tonight.   
Mey Rin placed the pin back onto the dresser and stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “Then I would say you are ready, my lady. Would you like me to walk with you to the main staircase? The young lord will be waiting for you there to escort you down to the ball.”   
“No, Mey Rin. That’s fine. I can find my way there.” I waved a dismissive hand at her and she curtsied before leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind her.   
I flicked my gaze to the large window, watching as the sun finished dipping behind the horizon in the distance, painting the sky orange and pink and red.   
It was time.   
I took in a deep breath and moved my focus back to the mirror in front of me one last time. I had to admit, I was stunning. The emerald green satin dress hugged my body in all the right places and the deep neckline revealed just enough ashen breast to pique desire and curiosity. I pinched my cheeks and bit my lip, bringing a little more color to my face before I took one last look at myself, smoothed down the gown once more, and left the safety of the room behind for the ball.   
*****  
We stood at the top of the grand staircase, my gloved hand resting lightly on Ciel Phantomhive’s crooked elbow, waiting to be announced so we could descend to the ball that was happening below.   
“Remember what your objective is.” The boy spoke up from beside me, his voice low, completely covered by the sounds of merriment echoing up from the ballroom.   
I scoffed quietly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not stupid.”   
He shot me a quick glare as we watched Sebastian step onto the staircase below us, outstretching his arms to the waiting crowd as the music stopped.   
“It’s too bad your shitty attitude couldn’t be cleaned up as well and as easily as your shitty appearance.” He spoke through gritted teeth as Sebastian’s voice echoed up from below.   
“Please welcome…...Lord Phantomhive….”   
We started our descent down the stairs, and as we gracefully stepped down each step, I muttered back to him, my voice full of venom, but the fake smile plastered across my lips never wavering, “I could say the same thing about you, my young lord.”   
“....accompanied by his cousin, the lovely lady herself, Lady Bellamy.”   
The kid wasn’t able to offer a retort, because we had reached the foot of the staircase and now stood beside Sebastian, who stepped back, arms folded once again behind his back, as Ciel Phantomhive stepped forward to address his waiting audience.   
“What are you all waiting for? This is a ball isn’t it? Resume the music.”   
The musicians in the corner started up instantly as his cold statement echoed around the room, but the people in attendance must have been aware of his temperment, because without a second thought they once again began chatting loudly amongst themselves and resumed their activities.   
I stepped up beside the boy. “Wow. So you’re a master of conversation AND hosting. I’m astounded.”   
He shot me another dark look before flicking his fingers at Sebastian, who dutifully followed him into the crowd and in the direction of the dessert table in the far corner.   
I stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, smiling and greeting each guest as they came toward me and offered their congratulations and small talk over my debut for the London season. Inside, I was dying. This was all so menial. How did they do this day in and day out? Parties and dances and fake faces and meaningless conversations? I guess when one has money, one doesn’t have to worry about being interesting.   
I scanned the room in a bored manner, only half listening as another woman prattled on about London and her estate and how we must have tea sometime while I was here.   
And then I saw him.   
I recognized him instantly. The tall, imposing stance, the perfectly manicured sandy hair and mustache above his upper lip, the dark eyes watching the room warily.   
Nicholas Irvine.   
“Would you excuse me for a moment?” I spoke over the woman, pushing past her before she could answer my question, weaving my way through the crowded dance floor toward the corner of the room where Nicholas Irvine stood.   
Just before I reached him, I snagged a flute of champagne off of a passing waiter’s tray. A lady holding a drink in her hand always appeared more vulnerable to a man. It was a little trick I had learned from my days in the Underworld of London.   
Irvine’s eyes watched me closely as I maneuvered through the last few dregs of people, I had finally caught his attention as I drew closer, and came to stand beside him where he leaned against the wall in the shadows.   
I flashed him a coy smile as I raised an eyebrow at him and motioned to him slightly with my champagne glass. “Not drinking?”   
His eyes left mine and scanned the dance floor once again. “No. I find the spirits at these events to not be to my taste.”   
I leaned back against the wall beside him, letting my arm brush his coat sleeve as I did so, and looked out over the dance floor as well, taking a sip of my champagne before I said lightly, “And not dancing either? Does anything at these events appeal to you, sir?”   
He didn’t spare me a glance as he said definitively, “Not particularly. I find the conversations vapid and the activities of merriment to be draining.”   
Damn. This was going to be more difficult than I had thought. The men on the streets had you in their bed before they even knew your name. Nicholas Irvine was going to take a lot more convincing.   
I stole a glance over to the dessert table and saw Sebastian watching us, the kid momentarily distracted by a blonde girl, who seemed intent on getting him to dance with her. He raised a dark eyebrow at me, as if to ask a question, and his eyes flamed bright for just a brief moment before he dropped my gaze and turned back to the boy beside him.   
I turned my attention back to Irvine, who was still sullenly watching the dancers, and made a decision.   
Setting my champagne glass down on a nearby table, I moved to stand in front of Irvine, and placing my hands on my hips, tried to place my most flirty pout across my lips as I cajoled, “I know you’re not much for dancing, my lord. But, as the guest of honor, nothing would make me happier to have you accompany me in just one waltz.” I batted my eyelashes at him, turning my lips downward into an overexaggerated frown. “Please? Just one dance. You can’t deny me that.”  
I saw him heave a large sigh and then he pushed himself up from the wall. “One dance, my lady. If that is what you truly wish.”   
“Oh yes, that is my wish!” I clapped my hands giddily and took his offered elbow, beaming him my brightest smile as he led me to the center of the dance floor. He placed a hand lightly on my waist and held out the other as I placed my gloved fingers in his, my other hand coming up to cup his broad shoulder.   
As we waited for the waltz to begin, I flashed him another smile and then said in a sickly sweet voice, “Oh, I do believe we haven’t been properly introduced! I am Lady Bellamy, the young Lord Phantomhive’s cousin on his mother’s side.”   
He looked down at me, his dark eyes unreadable, his lips set in a thin line, and then said, “Nicholas Irvine. Lord of Pallingview Park.”   
The music swelled and began again, stopping any other conversation from happening, but I managed to steal a glance over at Sebastian once again as Irvine spun me elegantly around the dance floor.   
As his crimson eyes met mine, the butler tipped his head to me slightly, a hint of a smirk resting on his lips, as if to tell me that he had been watching, and he approved.


	8. Lady of the Night

When the dance came to an end, everyone turned to politely applaud the musicians, who tipped their heads to the crowd in humble acknowledgment of their recognition.   
I watched Nicholas Irvine from the corner of my eye as I clapped with everyone else, though my gloved hands hardly made a sound, muffled by the velvet fabric that encased them.   
I noted that he applauded with the others around us, but didn’t seem to be putting much effort into it. He seemed rather bored with the frivolous expectations of the ball. A thought process we both apparently shared.   
I was ready for this party to get a little bit more exciting.   
I turned to him and flashed him my most flirtatious smile as the musicians moved to start up again. “Well. You are quite an excellent dancer, Lord Irvine. I must say, I don’t usually much care for these events myself, but you have shown me that when one has an accomplished partner, anything can be enjoyable.”   
There it was. The flash in his eyes, gone just as quickly as it had appeared. The sign that I could move forward with my plan. The emotion I had been waiting to see all night.   
Interest.   
He bowed stiffly to me. “Well, my lady. We obviously share the same sentiments when it comes to these shows of opulence. However, I do believe you are correct. One’s company for the night does indeed make all the difference.”   
I opened my mouth to respond to him, but before a single word could slip past my lips, someone approached us.   
“If it’s not too bold of me, sir, may I steal the Lady Bellamy for a dance?”   
I’d know that voice anywhere. The dark velvety quality was hard to miss.   
I looked over in surprise to see Sebastian standing beside us, his hand outstretched toward me, his eyes on Nicholas Irvine. Yet he looked nothing like the Sebastian I knew in that moment.   
He had changed from his normal butler uniform into an elegant, perfectly fitted, black as night tuxedo, and his hair was slicked back away from his forehead, a few errant strands hanging along his temples. He wore a pair of rimmed reading glasses, and the familiar scarlet eyes flashed behind them as he waited for Irvine to give his reply.   
I glanced over at the tall man and saw a slight look of displeasure cross his features before he answered Sebastian. “I suppose if you must.”   
Sebastian offered him a smile, bowing to him deeply as he did so, and then held his gloved hand out to me once again, his face unreadable as he said pleasantly, “Shall we, my lady?”   
I took his offered hand, I didn’t have much choice, and followed him back onto the dance floor. He placed a hand on my waist, his touch so light that I hardly felt the contact, and then took my other hand in his as the music began to swell.   
The dance began, and Sebastian guided me effortlessly through the required steps, and as we made our way around the ballroom, my annoyance finally got the best of me. “What are you doing?” I hissed out between my teeth, my jaw aching as I held the fake smile in place.   
Sebastian twirled me out and under his arm before bringing me back to him, his hand once again alighting on my waist as his lips quirked upward in amusement at my irritation. He didn’t miss a step as he said congeniality, “I’m dancing with you. Whatever do you mean?”   
I glanced over my shoulder to the corner where Nicholas Irvine had retreated, watching us sullenly from the shadows, and then turned my attention back to Sebastian. I felt my irritation rise at the familiar smirk that donned his lips, his crimson eyes flashing at me from behind the glasses. “Don’t play stupid. I had him. And then you interrupted us. I told the kid, I don’t need your damn help!”   
Sebastian swung us around the far side of the ballroom and back toward where Nicholas Irvine waited, his steps never wavering, though his focus was now entirely on me. “It has been proven, for centuries, that men want what other men have, isn’t that true, my lady?   
I opened my mouth to retort to him, but stopped in my tracks as I realized what he was getting at.   
He continued. “Therefore, when I asked you to dance, Nicholas Irvine’s natural instincts were ignited, and his mere interest from before has now turned into a raging possessiveness over you.”   
I flicked my gaze once again over to Irvine and noted that his eyes had never left us, even as we traveled to the far side of the dance floor once again.   
Damn it. Sebastian was right. He had just sealed the deal for me.   
I let out a frustrated huff of breath as I conceded to him, my pride smarting. “Fine. You win.”   
His eyes traveled down to my face and he held my gaze, making me a bit uncomfortable with the intensity, before he said matter of factly, “It’s not about winning. I’m merely one hell of a butler. It’s about accomplishing the mission the young master has set out for us.”   
We danced in silence for a few moments, the song starting to wind to a close, and as I contemplated what Sebastian had just done, a sudden thought flickered across my mind. I raised an eyebrow as I looked up at him and asked suddenly, “I forgot to ask earlier. You had quite the opinion on my choice of gown this morning.” I smirked at him as he met my eyes quizzically, waiting to see where I was going with this. “How do you find me in emerald?”   
His eyes flashed for a brief moment and then his lips curved ever so slightly, as if he was amused, and wanted to smile, but held it back. “My lady.” He leaned in closer to me, so close to me that I could see the flecks of maroon in his irises, his breath warm on my cheeks, before he said in a low voice, “I was not wrong about the color crimson suiting you, if that’s what you’re asking.” I was suddenly hyper aware of his hand on my waist, how his fingers cupped my hip bone, the feel of his gloved hand in my own, the sensation of my breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to speak. Something flashed across his eyes again, humor maybe, at how uncomfortable he was making me, and a smirk, different this time, softer, flickered across his lips as he murmured, “However, I must say, I did not anticipate how bewitching you would look in that dress.”   
I felt as if time were frozen, our gazes locked, just the two of us. It took me several moments before I realized that the music had stopped and everyone was clapping once again.   
I pulled away from Sebastian, my cheeks hot, and dipped him a quick curtsy, avoiding his gaze, as I said hurriedly, “Thank you for the dance, sir. But I’d better return before I am missed.”   
Without looking at him, I turned, flustered, and wove my way back across the dance floor to where Nicholas Irvine stood.   
When I reached him, still sequestered in the same corner, I offered him a bright smile and said in a slightly breathless voice, hoping the walk across the dance floor had cooled all the blush from my cheeks, “Lord Irvine! I think I have quite had enough of dancing for one night. How would you feel about retiring to the study for a much needed night cap?”   
His dark eyes were unreadable, yet at my words, something flashed across them once again, just briefly, and I saw what Sebastian had been talking about.   
Possessiveness.   
He offered me his elbow. “I would enjoy nothing more, my lady.”   
*****  
When we entered the darkness of the study, I shut the door softly behind us and then turned to face the tall silhouette of Lord Irvine, just seeable against the light of the moon coming in through the window. “Well. Let me light a few candles and then I’ll find us something to drink.”   
I walked carefully over to the mantle, searching with my hands over the shelves of the nearby bookshelf for a matchbook, and when I found one, I struck a match, the initial bright flare of the flame illuminating the room, and then settling into softer yellow light as I lit one of the candles above the fireplace.   
I moved to strike another match, but was stopped by Irvine’s hand covering my own. I felt his other arm snake around my waist and then his body was pressed up against mine, pinning me effectively against the fireplace as his lips moved against my ear, his voice husky, “I believe that’s enough light for what we intend to do. Don’t you think so, Lady Bellamy?” His lips moved from my ear and down my neck, as he reached up to brush my hair away, baring my shoulder.   
I gritted my teeth at the feel of his mouth on my skin, but didn’t lose my composure. He was exactly where I wanted him to be, and he didn’t need to know that I wasn’t enjoying this.   
I forced myself to release a breathy gasp from between my teeth and lean into him as his hand moved from my waist and trailed down my thigh, but before he could get too carried away, I spoke up, making myself sound breathless, as I said, “Lord Irvine. I do like where you are going. But we must have our nightcap first!”   
I broke away from him, gliding to the other side of the room before he could grab me again, and opened the drink cabinet, pulling down two crystal glasses as I said over my shoulder, “You said you don’t prefer the spirits served at events. However, I do believe you’ll enjoy this aged whiskey.” I removed the stopper from the bottle and poured some of the amber liquid into each cup carefully, before I replaced the drink back into the cabinet.   
Carrying a glass of whiskey in both hands, I turned back to face him, flashing him a coy smile as I crossed the room to where he now sat in an armchair, watching me. I made sure to sway my hips suggestively as I sauntered over to him, handing him a glass of whisky as I perched myself on the arm of his chair.   
I watched him from the corner of my eye, sipping my drink delicately, as he downed the whiskey in one gulp and placed the empty tumblr on the side table. His gaze roamed over my body as I sat beside him, finishing my drink, and the look of lust in his usually flat eyes made me want to shiver.   
Finishing my drink, I stood, gathering up our glasses, and crossing the room once again, placed them on the sideboard next to the cabinet. I was aware of Irvine’s eyes on my every movement, and when I turned to face him again, I met his gaze, holding it as I walked slowly toward him, my skirts swishing around my legs the only sound in the quiet room. I could see the anticipation mounting in his eyes as I drew ever closer.   
When I reached him, our eyes still locked, the tension between us so thick you could almost taste it, I reached out a gloved hand and ran a finger down his jawbone, his every muscle tensing underneath my touch. I leaned toward him, and putting my lips to his ear, said suggestively, quiet enough that only he could hear, “Now. Where were we?”   
Without waiting for him to answer, and still holding eye contact, I reached down and lifted the hems of my skirts, pulling them slowly upward, revealing the pale skin of my legs inch by inch. His fingers twitched, as if it was killing him not to reach out and touch me, but he didn’t, and once I had pulled the gown up to my knees, agonizingly slowly, I made my move.   
I straddled him on the armchair, placing a leg on either side of his hips, the emerald fabric of my skirts bunched between us, and wound a gloved hand into his perfectly coiffed hair. I pulled on the strands between my fingers, forcing his head back and his gaze, which had fallen to my breasts, back up to meet mine. A corner of my mouth curved upward into the hint of a smile as I murmured, “Now, it’s time you give me what I want, my lord.”   
A sneer came across his lips as I felt his hand come up and run across the bare skin of my back. “And what is that, Lady Bellamy?”   
I tilted my head, a fake look of endearing puzzlement coming across my face, as I asked innocently, “Oh, you don’t know?”   
“Tell me.” I felt his hand move to the lacing of my dress, and begin to pull at the ties, the sneer still gracing his features.   
Hell, I hated men.   
“I want….” I leaned toward him again, my grip on his hair tightening slightly, my lips brushing his earlobe as I forced breathiness into my tone.. “......your secrets.”   
In one smooth movement, before he had time to react, I brought a dagger up to his throat. He tensed under me as he felt the cold steel against his skin, the metal flashing in the light from the candle, my hand never wavering as I pressed the knife up underneath his jaw.   
“Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. Or I’ll slit your throat right here and now.” My voice was low, dangerous, and I kept the dagger pressed against him as I stood from the chair, reaching down with my free hand to remove the lacing that had been wound around my thigh. I tossed the long tie into his lap as I ordered, “Bind your hands.” When he made no effort to move, I leaned closer to him, the dagger biting into his skin and creating a thin line of crimson blood, as I hissed, “Do it. Now.”   
His eyes burning with anger, he silently reached downward and found the tie, his gaze never leaving mine, as he worked quickly to tie the lacing around his wrists. When he was finished, I reached down and made sure the knots were tight, the bindings biting into his flesh, before I stood, removing the knife from his throat.   
Stepping back from him, the dagger now held loosely in one gloved hand, I studied him for a moment, before I said, “Now. Tell me what I want to know.”   
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spit the statement out from between tight lips, hot anger rippling through every word. His dark eyes flashed as he regarded me.   
I let out a humorless chuckle as I took another step back toward him, flipping the knife deftly between my fingers. When I spoke, my voice was light, amused. “I know about your drug cartel, Irvine. So don’t play stupid with me. Tell me what I need to know. And you’ll leave here relatively in one piece.”   
A staccato scoff fell from his lips. “Please. I’m not frightened by a mere woman holding a tiny dagger.”   
I lunged toward him, my hand once again finding his hair and yanking his head back, forcing him to look at me. My voice was measured, yet anger was bubbling just beneath the surface. “You’re starting to annoy me, jackass. And trust me, you won’t like me when I’m angry.”   
A smirk flashed across his lips. “I’ll try my luck.”   
I released him and straightened, the hot anger that had filled my chest just seconds earlier replaced by an icy coolness. This ended now. I was tired of this game.   
I held my hand out from my side and dropped the dagger to the floor with a soft thud, before I closed the distance between us again. “Oh, Irvine. You shouldn’t have tested my patience.” I reached up a hand and ran my gloved fingers down the side of his face. “Such a pretty face.”   
His eyes met mine, and he must have noticed the change behind my expression, the cold instead of heat, because his gaze wavered for just a moment, as if he was beginning to doubt himself. I let out an exaggerated sigh of disappointment as I removed my hand from his skin and reached up, pulling the glove from my fingers one by one. When I had bared my hand, I glanced at it, watching for a few seconds as I clenched and unclenched my fist a few times. It was nice to feel the air on my skin again. I should let my fingers out of their velvet prison more often.   
Turning my attention back to the man in front of me, I slowly raised my naked hand up to his face once again, and let it hover there, my fingers mere centimeters from his cheek. I offered him a pitying smile. “It’s too bad I have to ruin it.”   
And then, without another thought, I touched him.   
******  
It was dark in Ciel Phantomhive’s office. The only light came in through the window, from the full moon high in the night sky   
The boy sat behind his desk, arms crossed, his features indistinguishable in the darkness, Sebastian’s tall, barely visible silhouette faithfully standing behind him.   
“Did you get the information?”   
I stood in front of the large desk, and though they couldn’t see me in the dim light, a smile flashed across my lips at his question. “Of course.”   
“And how did you ensure he won’t talk?”   
The smile on my lips curved maliciously at this next question. “Oh, my dear young lord, that was easy.” He sat forward, and our gazes met through the darkness, before I flipped the bloody dagger onto his desk, where it stuck, vibrating, between us, point embedded into the wood. I offered him a sinister smile, and this time, I knew he could see it.  
“I simply cut out his tongue.”


	9. Dancing with Demons

A few days later, I was called back to Ciel Phantomhive’s study.   
When I entered the room, the boy was standing in front of the large windows, his arms behind his back, his focus on the outside world as he stared silently down at the gardens.   
Sebastian stood beside him, ever vigilant, not saying a word, yet he bowed his head to me slightly as I came into the room.   
I walked across the room and sat down in the chair in front of the large desk, lounging back comfortably as I asked, my voice loud in the silence, “So? I’m here, kid. What’s next on your agenda?”   
He shifted slightly on his feet, but didn’t turn from the window as he said, “You’ve proven your loyalty. Nicholas Irvine was taken care of as I asked.” Finally, he turned to face me, his expression set in its permanent look of boredness bordering on displeasure, even though his words were approving. “In exchange for that, before your next task, it is time that I tell you a few things.”   
I raised an eyebrow at him, my curiosity piqued, as he came around the tall wingback chair and sat down at the desk across from me. “Oh? Am I being let in on some of the Phantomhive family’s dark secrets?”   
I glanced over at Sebastian, who still stood mutely beside the desk, trying to catch a clue from him, but he was as unreadable as ever.   
I turned my attention back to the kid in front of me as he crossed his arms over his chest, letting out a long sigh before he said in a flat voice, “No. Not the family’s secrets. Just mine. And mine alone.”   
I felt my interest flare again.   
He continued, his tone still serious, bleak. “It is imperative that you know this information before our next move.” His blue eye flickered quickly over to Sebastian and then back to me. “Do you know why I wear this patch?” He motioned with long fingers to the black eyepatch, hidden slightly under his shaggy hair.   
“I just always assumed you had a thing for being edgy.” I responded flippantly, giving him an innocent smile as he tsked in annoyance.   
“Very funny.” He shot me a dark look as he reached up for the eyepatch once again. I felt myself tense as his fingers touched the black fabric. What lay beneath? Whatever it was, Ciel Phantomhive was very serious about it. And he kept it secret from the rest of the world. I was pulled from my thoughts as he spoke again. “I’m going to show you what’s underneath. But only because I have to. And if you tell anyone what I reveal, I will kill you before you have a chance to plead for mercy.”   
I gave him a dark grin. “Ah. I would expect nothing less, young lord.”   
The room grew eerily silent again as his fingers hovered over the patch for a few moments, as if he was nervous about what he was about to do, and then, as if steeling himself, he hooked his fingers under the edge of the eyepatch and tore it off, letting it drop to the floor at his feet, revealing the secret beneath in one smooth movement.   
I stared at him for a few moments, my thoughts racing, and then everything clicked suddenly into place in my head.   
And though it was an odd reaction, I laughed.   
The boy seemed to be caught off guard by my laughter, his brow furrowed, and his now two eyed gaze locked onto my face as I chuckled, bringing a hand up to wipe away the tears of amusement from my eyes. “What’s so funny about this?”   
I let out one last giggle before I collected myself, bringing my gaze once again to study the revealed eye of the boy before me. The glowing purple symbol where his iris should be was bright in the dimly lit study, and I as I watched, it seemed to pulse with other wordly energy, growing brighter and then fading rhythmically as I stared.   
Finally, I pulled my focus back to the kid in front of me.   
“Nothing’s funny, kid. It’s just amusing to me.” I leaned back into the chair and shot him a smirk. “It all makes sense now.”   
His eyes flashed slightly with anger. “Do you know what this mark signifies?”   
I steepled my fingers under my chin, my lips still slightly curved in a smile as I said easily, “That’s a stupid question, young lord. Of course I know what that symbol is.” I flicked a finger at him. “You’ve made a deal with the devil. And if you’re the vessel….” Another revelation hit me, causing me to pause for a moment to consider it, before I went on, moving my gaze from the kid in front of me to the man standing silently beside him. “Then that means, your ever faithful butler, is the entity himself.” I raised an eyebrow at Sebastian as his eyes flashed crimson briefly, our gazes locked. “A demon.”   
“You’re as clever as you are beautiful, my lady.” Sebastian spoke for the first time since I had entered the room, and reached down to remove one of his white gloves, revealing the pale skin of the back of his hand, marred with the same symbol that adorned Ciel Phantomhive’s eye.   
I let out a low whistle under my breath. “I guess we were both hiding dark secrets under our gloves, eh, Sebastian?” You flick your gaze back to the kid sitting in the chair before you. “Damn. You must have been hard pressed to make a deal with a demon, eh Lord Phantomhive?”   
He shot me a glare and I gave him a grin, as he said in a dark voice, replacing his eyepatch over the cursed eye, “I’d expected you to react a bit differently.”   
“What?” I shrugged slightly. “You expected me to scream and run, terrified, from the room when you revealed your true natures to me?” I picked absently at a loose thread on my gloves. “Sorry, kid. That’s not how I do things. I’ve seen enough shit that I don’t believe I’m even capable of feeling fear anymore.”   
I looked up as Sebastian leaned forward across the desk, his gloved palms face down on the surface, his ruby eyes glowing intensely, his gaze focused on me, his voice low. “You’re not afraid of demons, my lady?” His trademark smirk flickered across his lips at the question.   
I leaned forward in my chair, bringing our faces within inches of each other, my eyes locked with his, before I said, my voice matching the volume of his, “I’ve seen enough demons calling themselves humans in this world that the thought of a demon from another doesn’t even make me blink.”   
We stayed there, our faces inches apart, so close that we could feel the other’s breath on our skin, so close that I could see the reflection of myself in his pupils, for a few moments of silence after my statement, before I pulled back, suddenly realizing how intense his gaze was, and how uncomfortable the fluttering of my stomach felt.   
I cleared my throat, bringing my attention back to Ciel Phantomhive, who I’d forgotten was in the room for those few moments, and hoped I wasn’t flushed as I said quickly, “Your secret is out. And it’s safe with me. Now.” I cracked my knuckles expertly, my gaze never leaving his. “What’s my next job?”   
******  
Later that evening, we all rode silently through the night darkened streets of London, the carriage swaying to and fro on the cobbles the only sound to be heard.   
I glanced out the window at the city sweeping by and noted the ever darkening of the sky in the direction we were headed. A storm was coming. The clouds were looking more and more ominous by the minute.   
Perfect. The scene was being set.   
Bringing my attention back to the inside of the carriage, I looked across from me and studied Ciel Phantomhive, who sat in his seat, silent, brooding, his hands planted firmly on the handle of his finely made cane.   
I was impressed, I had to admit. This kid was dealing with dangerous people, demons even, those on his side and not, and he didn’t so much as hesitate in taking care of the Queen’s orders, no matter what they may be. The furrowing of his brow, the hidden eye, the steely set of his mouth, all signs pointed to the fact that he meant business, and nothing else.   
I liked the fact that this kid was willing to do anything and everything to get the job done.   
Moving my studious gaze on from the young lord, I slid my focus to the tall form clad in the usual black in the seat beside him.   
Sebastian was focused on the scenery passing by outside, his dark hair hanging loosely over his forehead, shielding and shading his eyes from my view, yet I knew the deep blood red color of their depths by heart now.   
As if my thoughts had pulled at his attention, the demon butler turned his head slightly from the window, his eyes finally meeting mine, the crimson irises flashing brightly in the dim light of the carriage, his mouth moving upward just a hint into the start of a smirk.   
I raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t look away. Instead, our gazes remained locked, until I finally felt discomfort flutter in my chest and broke the invisible thread created between us, turning back to Ciel Phantomhive and clearing my throat.   
“So.” The sound of my voice broke through the silence easily, as if it were a thin sheet of glass. “We must be almost there, yes?”   
The boy sitting across from me shifted slightly as we turned a corner and emerged onto another street of London, and then impatiently tapped his cane against the roof of the carriage, signalling the driver to come to a stop.   
I balanced myself, so as not to fall forward at the sudden cessation of our movement, as Ciel Phantomhive responded to my query, sinking back into the cushions of his seat, his dark blue eye regarding me from beneath a shaggy mane of hair. “We are in fact, here.” He moved the curtain aside from the carriage window with the tip of his cane and peered outside for a brief moment before he let the heavy fabric fall shut again. He turned back to me once again. “I’m only going to ask you this once more. You’re sure no one will recognize you in there.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact, of hardened edges.   
I let out a small laugh, devoid of humor, and reached for my dark cloak sitting on the bench beside me as I heard the carriage driver circle around to open our door. “I’ve told you before, young lord. I was never involved in the drug circles of the underworld of London. I was simply into petty thievery.” At the mention of my thieving, I hold up my gloved hand and splay my fingers, so that the kid across from me can see the ring that glints in the light from outside perched delicately on my index finger.   
His eye flashes with anger as his hand goes down to feel for his thumb on the opposite hand, realising that I have somehow snatched the ring that bears his family crest from him sometime before we reached London.   
Before he can say anything, I take off the piece of jewelery and toss it across the carriage to him, just as the footman opens up my door. I give him a sly grin as I stand to exit the carriage, his eye still dark and watching me cautiously as he replaces the ring on his right hand. “I’m a thief, kid. Not a drug dealer. No one in this joint is going to know who I am.” I step down carefully, taking the footman’s offered hand, and wait on the cobbled sidewalk as Sebastian follows me out through the open door. Ciel Phantomhive is watching the two of us from the dark recesses of the carriage, and as the footman goes to close his door once more, I offer him one more piece of reassurance before he disappears from sight. “Besides. No one will be alive to talk anyway once Sebastian and I are done.”   
The door to the carriage shuts, and the footman jumps aboard, slapping the horses into a rolling gallop as he carries Ciel Phantomhive off into the night and out of sight.   
I take a deep breath of the cold, night air, and glance up at the sky, noting once more that the dark boiling clouds are growing closer by the second. It smells like rain.   
It’s perfect.   
I shrug the dark cloak over my shoulders and pull the hood up close around my face as I fasten the clasp at the base of my neck, the soft fabric falling and closing over my gown and hiding it from view.   
I glance over at Sebastian, who has somehow produced an umbrella from somewhere, and raise an eyebrow at him as he hooks the handle over his suit clad arm. He notices my expression and says factually, “It appears that it might rain. I wanted to be prepared so that you didn’t get soaked, my lady.”   
I snort incredulously. “Yeah, okay. Of course that’s what you’re thinking about right now.”   
Sebastian offers me the crook of his elbow, and as I take it and we turn from the road to face the inn behind us, he says pleasantly, “I am simply one hell of a butler, my lady. I’m always prepared.”   
“Oh.” I open my mouth and let the realization slip out as sound as I look over at him again. “I get it now. Ha ha. That’s a joke. ‘One hell of a butler.” He now raises an eyebrow at me, as if I’m spouting gibberish at him. I motion toward him as I explain. “You know. Because you’re a demon. Like. From hell.”   
He turns his gaze forward again as we approach the lit up entrance of the inn and when he speaks, his voice his slightly irritated, “Demons don’t only just live in hell. You humans are still rather uneducated for what year it is. I would have thought you’d all have learned more by now, considering the advances in technology and education.”   
I stifle a giggle behind my lips at his miffed tone. It was the first time I’d ever heard anything over than cool obedience taint his words, and I liked it.   
Maybe Sebastian’s midnight black feathers could be ruffled.   
And from now on, I would make it my new goal to see how it could be done.   
We’ve reached the door of the nondescript inn on the side of the London road, and as Sebastian reaches up with his free hand to push inside, I glance above us at the worn, wooden sign that hangs above the door.   
The Dark Horse.   
An appropriate name for an inn where some of the less refutable folks of London hung out and did business. Although they could have been a little more creative.   
When we stepped into the room beyond the front entrance, Sebastian letting the door shut behind us, all eyes turned in curiosity to see who the new arrivals were.   
I kept my hand light on Sebastian’s arm, keeping my eyes down, the hood from my cloak hiding my face in shadow, as he wove me through the tables and back toward the main bar of the establishment.   
I glanced to each side of us as we walked, studying the riff raff that was gathered here for the night.   
In one corner, a group of three old men, worn clothes hanging off their gaunt frames like torn flags, laughed loudly as they bet on a pile of coins in the middle of their table, half empty glasses of alcohol in their hands.   
Younger men watched us warily from a few of the other tables hidden in shadows, their fists clenched around tankards of ale and whiskey, dirty plates with bones left over from their dinner filling the tables in front of their slumped figures.   
Most everyone’s attention had gone back to what they had been doing when we had come in, their interest now satiated when they saw that we didn’t appear to be affiliated with the police or London Yard.   
We reached the bar and were met by a heavyset woman, her apron stained with food and drink, her greasy hair pulled off of her forehead in a tightly set bun, a small dirty child clinging to her skirts, watching us from behind his mother with wary eyes much too large for his thin face.   
She wiped her hands on the already filthy apron and eyed us suspiciously as we approached, Sebastian offering her a small polite bow and beautiful smile as he said in a pleasant tone, “Good evening, madam. We were hoping for some refreshment. We’ve been traveling all day and we’re quite famished.”   
The woman moved her beady gaze between the two of us and then said gruffly, “Don’t get many visitors this side of London. And at this hour.”   
“Oh yes. You see, my wife and I have just come back from the countryside. We intended to leave earlier to get back before nightfall, but unfortunately that rainstorm out there caught us a little off guard. We can pay, of course, for the trouble!” Sebastian offered her another smile, this one slightly sympathetic, and I noted that even the tough and unfriendly looking woman behind the bar seemed to not be entirely immune to his charms. Under his fuschia gaze and warm, inviting facial expressions, she twined her fingers into her apron nervously, a slight color coming to her cheeks.   
He was good. I’d give him that.   
The woman hesitated for another brief moment and then nodded briskly. “A’right. I suppose we can find some bread in the back.” She motioned to the child still hiding in her skirts and then barked out, “Jeremiah! Go and fetch your brother from the back room. Tell him to bring up some crust and ale.”   
The young, dirty boy scurried away from the safety of his mother and disappeared into the darkness of the back room.   
Sebastian pulled out one of the stools that stood at the bar for me and I took the seat, pulling the hood off of my head as I did so, revealing my face for the first time since entering the inn. He took a seat beside me and then leaned toward the woman, who had finally removed her intense gaze from us and was wiping down some of the crumbs and sticky drink from the bar before her. “Madam, if I may…..”   
Before he could finish his query, Sebastian was interrupted by the return of the small child from earlier, and tailing behind him, was a just as dirty and emaciated looking, but slightly older boy, carrying a crust of bread and two tankards in his hands. He set them down before us without looking up, some of the dark brown ale sloshing onto the counter his mother had just cleaned, and disappeared, once again, out of sight and into the back of the inn.   
I glanced over at Sebastian out of the corner of my eye and took a sip of the bitter ale, as he flashed me a knowing look before reaching out to the woman once more. “Madam, as I was saying, we heard something about your particular establishment. And we were rather hoping that it was true.”   
The woman’s movements stilled and she straightened, putting her hands on wide hips as she glared at Sebastian, all traces of pleasantness from earlier now gone. “And just what would that be?”   
“We had heard….” I spoke up for the first time, and the woman’s hard gaze fell on me, as I reached into the pocket of my cloak, and my fingers closed around the hard object waiting there. “That people who presented the right toll, would be permitted to enter into a certain business on the property.” At my words, I brought out the coin from my pocket and slid it across the bar to her, seal up, so that she could clearly see the inked design in its copper surface.   
The coin that I had retrieved from Nicholas Irvine just a few nights before. The coin that should be able to get us where we needed to go without any questions asked.   
The woman picked up the coin, holding it in the palm of her hand and studying it for a few quiet moments, before she pocketed it in her apron and looked back up to us, her eyes flitting to Sebastian and then me before she said in a low, rough voice. “Aye. You’ve heard right. It’s down the stairs through the back.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder quickly. Her shifty eyes flickered around the room once, making sure no one had heard her uttered statement to us, but all the customers were thoroughly immersed in their drinks or own activities.   
Sebastian plopped some more coins down on the table in front of her, presumably for the bread and ale, though he hadn’t touched either, and offered her one more devastating smile as he said smoothly, “Thank you, madam. We do appreciate the assistance.”   
She huffed under her breath, the color once again returning to her cheeks, and she quickly moved away from us, hollering out for the sons who had disappeared into the bowels of the inn.   
I glanced over at Sebastian as we both stood from our seats, he once again offering his arm for me to take, and as we walked around the bar and quietly toward the stairs that loomed before us, disappearing into the blackness below, I muttered under my breath to him, “It’s a good thing you’re so damn charming. Otherwise, I don’t know if she would have let us in.”   
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smirk and his eyes flashed crimson in the dimming light. “My lady, I am merely….”   
I rolled my eyes. “One hell of a butler, I know.” We reached the top of the stairs and Sebastian placed a hand over mine as we readied to descend.   
I was caught off guard slightly by the action, his long, slender fingers, resting lightly on mine, and even though both our hands were gloved, I could almost feel the warmth of his skin against my own.   
He was just doing it to be polite. To make sure I didn’t fall down the stairs in the darkness.   
At least that’s what I kept repeating over and over in my head.   
Sebastian’s low voice, soft, silky, came out of the darkness beside me, and when I turned my head to look at him, only his eyes, cat like, red, deep, glowed through the inkiness beside me. “Well, my lady. I believe it’s time. Shall we?”   
I took in a deep breath, feeling nervousness flutter in my chest.   
I wasn’t nervous for what lay ahead. I had done horrible things in my life, and I was sure I would do many more. And this didn’t scare me. Not a bit.   
But. I was nervous about something else. And it had nothing to do with the room or the people waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. And everything to do with the demon disguised as a man at my side, his hand still resting lightly on top of mine.   
There was no going back. Once this was done, I was bound, linked with Sebastian, until this mission was seen through until the end. We would be hooked by some long, invisible, macabre thread. A thread that was wound from dark deeds, and killing, and revenge, and justice.   
A thread that couldn’t easily be cut.   
I released the breath I had been unknowingly holding, and steeling my shoulders, I spoke into the emptiness around us, into the blackness, my voice swallowed until there was nothing left but sound hanging in the air.   
“I’m ready.”


	10. Den of Night

When Sebastian pushed open the heavy door at the bottom of the stairs, everyone’s attention was instantly on the two of us.   
The room, which was dark and seedy and just how I had expected a basement drug lair to be, was filled with greasy, dirty looking men, bent over tables assembly line style as they packaged and boxed drugs to be dispersed.   
All that activity stopped, however, as soon as we walked in.   
Sebastian ignored the stares from the workers, their hooded eyes suspicious and leering from deep within their filthy, hollowed faces. Instead, he let the door swing shut heavily behind us, and then offered the men a smile, not unlike the one he had given the barmaid upstairs, as he said in a pleasantly loud voice, “Good evening, gentlemen. Who can I address as the manager of this establishment?”   
I rolled my eyes. Manager? Establishment? This was a sweatshop cranking out drugs, in the basement of an inn, run by a group of tattered men who probably didn’t even know how to read or write. Why did Sebastian speak as if it were a highly regarded place of relaxation?   
Honestly. He drove me mad sometimes.   
A man rose from his seat behind a desk at the back of the room, hidden from our view until now, and planted his hands firmly on the surface in front of him, leaning forward to peer at us with wary eyes. “Aye, that’s me, I s’pose.” He flicked his gaze from Sebastian, who was standing erect and proper, still in that damned suit, over to me, his eyes shifting down my figure in such a way that I was glad I had on my cloak as an extra layer of protection between myself and his leering look. “You musta presented the correct entry fee upstairs? What’s yer business then?”   
I saw Sebastian flick his eyes around the room quickly, taking in the men who were all still staring at us, and then he turned his attention back to the man at the back of the room before he said in an amicable voice, “Well, I was hoping this could be between the two of us. It’s a private matter, you see.” He shrugged one shoulder slightly and tilted his head toward the men watching, as if to ask the man to call them off.   
The man watched him for another moment, seeming to hesitate, before he barked out, “A’right you lot. Get back to work! The boss’ll have our heads if we don’t get that shipped out t’night!”   
The men hurried back to their stations, resuming the processing tasks they had been doing when we entered, and a quiet hum of noise and activity once again filled the room.   
Sebastian pulled me down the center of the room, back toward where the man had seated himself behind his desk again, and as we walked among the rows of tables and the assembly lines of men, I muttered under my breath so that only he could hear, “I don’t think you’re going to be able to charm your way out of this one, butler. He looks a little less impressionable than the woman upstairs.”   
Sebastian kept his gaze on the man in front of us as we neared, but before we reached him, he responded to my statement, a slight hint of amusement in his low voice as his lips hinted at his customary smirk. “I won’t need charm for this, my lady. I’ve got you.”   
We had reached the desk, and Sebastian pulled out the lone chair for me, bowing slightly as he did so, and I took my seat. He moved to stand behind me, and I was surprised when he rested a light hand on my shoulder, his long fingers curling slightly into the fabric of my cloak as he did so.   
He was really milking this couple disguise for all that it was worth.   
I was pulled from my thoughts when the man in front of us spoke, his voice gravelly, his eyes lighting on Sebastian and then me. “Now. You had a coin. You’re obviously here for the product. You said it was a private matter?” He flicked his eyes down to me again, as if questioning if I should partake in this discussion.   
I studied his face for a brief moment, now that we were sitting across from each other.   
His skin was marred by prominent pockmarks, as if he picked at his blemishes obsessively, and his hair was slicked back from his forehead, although I doubted any gel had been used. It looked as if to be held up by grease and dirt alone, the strands thick with debris and obvious flakes of skin. His teeth were yellow and crooked, and the slight sneer that graced his lips as he looked at me showed that his gums were black with miscare.   
Overall, I didn’t like the man one bit.   
Sebastian broke my quiet study with his lilting voice, he must have seen the man look at me as if hesitant to speak in front of me, and wanted to assuage his fears. “Ah. Yes. It is private, but you may speak freely in front of my wife. She knows everything.” He squeezed my shoulder affectionately, and though I didn’t look up at him, I could just imagine the smile that drew across his mouth, putting the man at ease.   
Satisfied, the man sat back in his chair, his paunch of a belly hanging over his worn trousers as he crossed his muddy boots and put his hands behind his head, still regarding us closely, but with less suspicion than before. “Well then. What can I do for ye?” He raised an eyebrow at us. “Are ye buying for the supplier who gave ye the coin then?”   
“Actually.” I spoke up, my voice light, an innocent smile playing across my lips as I watched the dealer look at me in surprise. I held my hand out, palm up, and opened my fingers one by one, revealing the marked coin nestled in the fabric of my glove. I had stolen it back as soon as the woman upstairs had tried to pocket it. The man’s gaze fell to the token as I continued in an even tone. “Your boss, Nicholas Irvine, gave me this coin himself.”   
The man’s eyes widened imperceptibly at his boss’s name and I smiled at him again, this time, not quite as innocently, as I flipped the coin between my fingers, the copper flashing in the light of the lanterns.   
Sebastian spoke again, and though I didn’t turn to look at him, I could hear the slight hint of amused malice in his voice as he said, “Oh, did something she say surprise you? I can’t imagine why. The lady is a very close acquaintance of Lord Irvine. She speaks the truth of the origin of that coin.”   
The man’s eyes moved from Sebastian back to me, and then to the coin being rolled between my gloved fingers. “That’s impossible…” His voice came out hoarse, as if what we were saying had robbed him of the ability to speak.   
“Why?” I raised an eyebrow at him and tilted my head to the side, as if curious why he said what he did. “You don’t think your boss would give me this? I’m telling you, he did.” I flipped the coin across the table to him, and it landed on the desk with a clatter, in front of his clenched fists. He stared at it, but didn’t touch it, as I leaned forward and lowered my voice, before saying, “Did you see his face?”   
The man’s eyes shot up to mine so quickly, that I didn’t need him to answer my question. He already had.   
“Oh…” I breathed out the word, as if making a realization, although I already knew he knew what I was talking about. “You did.” I sat back, steepling my fingers in front of my chin as I regarded him from across the table. I felt Sebastian’s hand drop back onto my shoulder, but I didn’t glance away from the man in front of me.   
He was mine. I had him now.   
A smirk flickered across my lips, and when I spoke, my voice was dangerous. “Wasn’t it disgusting? The peeling, sloughing, burnt, scarred, deep red of his skin? When my husband said that Lord Irvine and I were acquaintances, he meant it. We’re very well acquainted.” I held up a hand, splaying my fingers wide for him to see. “So well acquainted, in fact, that I ruined his perfect, pretty face. And then.” I grinned at him, leaning forward once more, relishing the terror that was starting to build in his eyes. “I cut out his tongue. With this knife.” I pulled the dagger from my cloak and threw it onto the table in front of the man, where it clattered to a stop next to the coin.   
The man looked down at the objects in front of him, and then back up to Sebastian and I, the fear in his eyes no longer hidden. He pushed back from the desk, the chair clattering to the floor behind him, as he said wildly, “You’re both crazy!” His wide eyes flitted around the room in no pattern whatsoever, the men at the tables starting to look in our direction at the commotion, and suddenly, his voice rose to a scream as he commanded the men, “Kill ‘em! Kill ‘em both! They can’t leave here alive!”   
As the men around the room lunged into motion toward us, and the man behind the desk moved to get away from us, I stood from my chair and glanced at Sebastian for the barest of moments. His crimson eyes met mine, flared fuschia for a moment, and then he spoke, his voice as calm and even as if we were enjoying a day at the beach, not surrounded by drug lords who wanted us both dead. “You secure the leader. I’ll take care of these gentlemen.”   
I barely had time to nod to him before the force of men had converged on us.   
I slipped through easily, the group focusing mainly on Sebastian, and took off around the desk, toward the open doorway where the man had disappeared moments before.   
Entering what appeared to be a storeroom, I caught sight of the boss in the far corner, back against a wall of shelves, the dagger from earlier clutched in his white fist as he stared me down, his eyes wild, nostrils flared. “Don’t come any closer, ye hear? I’ll gut ye like a fish!”   
“See. That’s where you’re wrong.” I spoke calmly, walking toward him slowly, reaching into the recesses of my cloak as I did so. Before he could react, I pulled another dagger from the fabric and as quick as a flash, flung the blade across the room, where it landed neatly with a thunk into the wood of the shelves behind him, pinning his knife hand against the wall.   
He let out a tortured cry, the dagger piercing neatly through the flesh of his palm, and dropped the dagger he had been holding from his fingers as he reached to remove my knife.   
I darted the rest of the way across the room, and picked up the dagger from the floor, reaching out to slam his free hand back against the wall behind him as I did so, dagger dangling between my fingertips as I offered him a smile. “Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”   
Crimson blood dripped down his forearm and onto the floor at our feet as I held his other hand securely with my own.   
Behind us, I heard footsteps enter the room, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Sebastian, clean and unruffled as ever, not a hair out of place, come into the room.   
His eyes lit upon me and then on the man in front of me as he approached us, his dark dress shoes making his steps echo off the cobbles and walls around us. He raised a slender eyebrow slightly at me as he said in a bemused tone, “Everything handled here, darling?”  
I blew a loose strand of hair from my eyes as I glanced back at the immobilized man in my grip. “Oh, I have everything under control, love.” The term of endearment was stressed with sarcasm, as if our parts that we had played could now be regarded as a joke as the tension of the situation diffused. I looked over my shoulder at him again, and as we made eye contact, I noted that his eyes were glowing that deep scarlet again. “How did things go in the other room?”   
His trademark smirk graced his lips for the briefest of moments before he responded, “Everything is taken care of. Just as planned. Our gentlemen friends have been handled, and the product has been disposed of.”   
I turned my attention back to the man in front of me, who was still held against the wall with my hand and my knife, his eyes wide with fear, his arm shaking underneath my grip, his face pale, his blood red at my feet. I leaned close to him, and he shrunk away from me in response, but I didn’t let him go far, my face almost touching his as I said in a low growl, “Did you hear that? You’re done. And so is your boss, Irvine. This business is finished. Your drugs are no longer going to sicken and darken the south side of London.” My eyes darkened, and I slammed him back roughly against the wall, making sure he was listening closely to me, before I got back into his face and hissed between my teeth, “Do you hear me, you bastard? You don’t get to prey on the weak anymore. So take your shit, and go to hell.”   
And with that statement, I slammed the dagger in my hand into his other palm, his blood spurting warm across my cheek as he let out a bloodcurdling scream and writhed in my grip.   
I released him, and without looking back, walked past Sebastian toward the door.   
As I passed the demon, without meeting his bloody gaze, I said flatly, coldly, my tone devoid of emotion, “Do it.”   
And as I left the room, a gunshot echoed through the silence and stillness of Nicholas Irvine’s once bustling drug den.   
And the macabre thread, dripping with blood, that now connected Sebastian and I together, was complete.


	11. Kitchen Duty

I slept well into the afternoon the next day.   
When I finally woke, I stretched my arms lazily over my head as I blinked my eyes a few times to clear the sleep from my vision, glancing around the room as I did so. It was still fairly dark in the bedroom, thanks to the heavy brocade drapes that were drawn over the large window, even though I felt as though it must be well past morning, closer to lunch time.   
I stretched one last time and then slipped out of the large bed, throwing the heavy comforter off of my body as I swung my legs down to the floor and stood, letting out a large yawn as I did so.   
I went over to the window and pulled back the curtains, covering my eyes with one hand as the sunlight suddenly streamed into the bedroom, lighting everything in a warm afternoon glow. I squinted against the bright light as my eyes adjusted, glancing down at the sprawling gardens of the estate. Below my window, a few gardeners worked on the hedges, humming busily like bees as they hurried about their various tasks.   
That’s right. Ciel Phantomhive had mentioned something about a special guest coming tomorrow on the carriage ride home the night before. Someone coming to discuss the kid’s business. Nothing that involved me. I had the whole day to myself.   
I retreated from the window and headed toward the bathroom, noticing on my way that a tray had been left on the bedside table for me. Stopping briefly to overlook its contents, I took a hurried sip of the now chilly tea and grabbed a muffin from the porcelain plate, taking a large bite out of it as I continued on into the bathroom.   
The bathtub was filled to the brim with water, I made a note in my head to thank Mey Rin later for preparing it while I was sleeping, and steam still clung to the mirror and glass chandelier overhead. Finishing the muffin, I stripped out of my night gown and gloves, setting them aside as I slipped first one, and then the other, foot into the water of the bath. The water wasn’t as hot as it had been when it was drawn, but it was still warm enough to be comfortable. I slid down the porcelain tub and submerged myself fully in the water, releasing a slight sigh from between my lips as I did so.   
Damn. It felt amazing.   
Leaning my head back against the cool, hard lip of the tub, I closed my eyes for a brief moment, letting the smells of the bath salts ripple over me in waves of lavender and rose.   
I stayed that way for a long time, my eyes closed, my arms draped over the edges of the tub, the smell of spring flowers lingering in my nose.   
It was vastly different from the night before-the smell of unwashed bodies, the stares of leering men, the feel of warm blood splashing across my cheek.   
And the presence of Sebastian.  
I started upward as his face came into my mind, and I could feel a hot blush flash across my cheeks, and not just from the warmth of the water that covered my body. Standing, physically shaking my head to clear it of thoughts, I grabbed one of the towels from beside the tub and stepped out onto the tile floor, the stone cool beneath my bare feet.   
Hurrying out of the bathroom, the chilly air of the bedroom hit my body in a wave and caused goosebumps all over my bare skin as I crossed the room and opened the wardrobe.   
Mey Rin wasn’t here to help me with anything complicated, and honestly, I didn’t want to bother her. She was probably preparing for the young lord’s guest.   
I reached into the armoire and grabbed a simple house dress, made of a cream linen with lace accents, and grabbed a petticoat and undergarments to go with it. I struggled for a few minutes to get everything into place, not even worrying about putting a corset on by myself, before I pulled the dress up my body and fastened it at the nape of my neck. Glancing in the mirror, I grabbed a brush off the nearby table and quickly ran it through my hair, and once satisfied with my state of dress and grooming, left the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind me.   
I made my way down the long hallway to the main set of stairs that led down to the foyer of the mansion, avoiding as many servants as possible as I went. I wasn’t particularly in the mood to address anyone, and when a few of the servants bowed to me as I passed, I gave them a slight nod, hurrying past them with head down as they scurried back to their hustle and bustle of tasks.   
Getting down the stairs without incident, I first peeked my head into the dining room and then the study, and when I didn’t see either Ciel Phantomhive or the demon butler, made my way down the hallway and back toward the kitchen.   
The kid was probably locked upstairs in his study, preparing for his guest to arrive. But I was fairly certain I would find Sebastian where I was headed. I’d only been at Phantomhive Manor for a few days, but I already knew that he seemed most comfortable running things from the headquarters of the house’s kitchen.   
Skirting past a few more servants who hurried around me, I came to the back of the mansion and approached the open kitchen door, immediately getting barraged by wave of scents and smells as I entered the doorway.   
I had been right. He was here.   
I leaned against the doorframe, my gloved hands tucked behind my back, and watched him silently for a few brief moments.   
Honestly, he was majestic to watch.   
Everything was under his control. He flitted between chopping and cooking and stirring and mixing as effortlessly as if he were dancing a waltz. The almost chaotic hurriedness of the other servants around the house wasn’t felt in the kitchen, not by him. He approached everything with an air of calm and dignity.   
He was in charge here.   
“Good afternoon, my lady.”   
His deliciously smooth voice broke me from my thoughts and I pulled my gaze over to where he stood, not looking up, his attention focused on the pot before him as he stirred in even, measured movements.   
I suddenly felt flustered. He must have known I had been here the whole time. Watching him.   
“Sebastian.” I addressed him and cleared my throat, hoping he wouldn’t look at me until the slight pink had faded from my face. When I spoke again, my voice was unruffled, although I had to work hard to make it sound so. “There’s quite a lot going on today. Visitors, I presume?”   
He finally flicked his eyes up to mine for the barest of moments as he moved from the stove and back to the sink, reaching down to wash potatoes underneath the stream of water as he said, “Yes. The young lord is entertaining some men who deal with the Phantomhive family business.” He shut off the water and reached up to his shoulder, where a dish rag hung neatly across his suit, and wiped his hands dry before he turned to look at me again, his crimson eyes deep red in the light of the sun coming in through the window. “I’m just preparing dinner for them all.”   
I raised an eyebrow at him as I finally pushed away from the doorframe and entered the kitchen, walking over to the stove to glance into the large pot that simmered there. “And your making…?” I asked pointedly as I motioned to whatever he was cooking.   
“A sweet potato curry.” He expertly began to chop the potatoes, his knife a blur, as he answered me. “Brined lamb with mint jelly. Pheasant and Rabbit stew.” He finished with the potatoes and scooped them smoothly into another pot before he laid down his knife and met my gaze again. “And a cup of the finest Earl Grey and a brandy scone for dessert when retirement to the study is needed.”   
I whistled slightly under my breath. “Damn.” I glanced down into the pot again, now noticing the chunks of red meat that floated in the thick broth amongst potatoes, carrots, and parsnips. “I hate to say it, because I don’t like to boost your ego anymore than it is, but that’s impressive.”   
Sebastian brushed past me with the potatoes and poured them into another pan full of boiling water, straightening after he did so and headed back toward the sink where a pile of herbs waited for him. He began to chop again, swiftly and effortlessly, and said over his shoulder, “My lady, your compliments are well received. I am merely one hell of a butler after all. I shall not let them go to my head.” His lips curled slightly into the familiar smirk and his eyes flashed scarlet briefly before he turned back to the task at hand, but not before saying, “Would you mind stirring the stew?”   
I glanced down at the pot before me, not sure what to do.   
Finally, I reached out a gloved hand and, picking up the spoon from the counter, dipped it into the stew, beginning to stir in an awkward movement that looked nothing like what Sebastian had been doing before.   
The kitchen was quite after that, no other sound was heard besides Sebastian’s rhythmic chopping and the food in the pots and pans bubbling and hissing softly on the heat.   
I kept stirring, though the movement felt incredibly unskilled in my unlearned hands, and I was just beginning to think that maybe I should stop what I was doing and try a different approach, when I realized that the sound of Sebastian’s knife had stopped.  
Before I could glance over my shoulder to see what had happened, an arm went around my waist and a gloved hand came up to cover my own that was clenching the wooden spoon.   
I forced myself not to jump as Sebastian leaned into me a bit, his other hand resting on the counter beside me, as he gently started to guide my hand in a smoother stirring movement. When he spoke, his voice was low and his warm breath tickled the tiny hairs around my ear as he murmured, “There, that’s better. You looked like you could use a little help, my lady.”   
I wanted to shiver at the feel of his lips so close to my ear, but I forced myself to remain still, keeping my eyes locked onto the spoon as he guided our hands around and around the pot. The only thing I could do was spit out a slight jibe, but even that fell flat in the face of my flustered thoughts. “It might come as a surprise to you, but I was never taught how to cook fancy stews in the underworld of London.”   
He chuckled slightly, the sound still close to my ear, his tone dark and smooth, like velvet, and his arm brushed against my waist again, as he continued to guide my motions. I was suddenly very aware that I wasn’t wearing my corset. And that the skin of his arm was only separated from mine by two thin layers of cloth. “I never would have guessed, my lady.”   
I swallowed hard, hoping that a blush wasn’t reddening my cheeks.   
We stirred in silence for a few seconds, although honestly, it felt like hours, and then he spoke again, and this time his voice wasn’t quite as controlled as before, there was a hint of something behind his words, something that resembled curiosity. “You’ll forgive me for saying so, my lady.” His hand stilled on mine, and the spoon fell idle in the bubbling stew, as I waited for what he was about to say. My heart was in my throat, I felt flushed and hot, and I didn’t know whether it was because he was so close to me or because we had been standing in front of the stove for quite awhile now.   
He leaned closer to me, as if drawn by that invisible thread, and I felt his nose brush gently across the skin of my ear as he said, his voice barely a murmur, “But you, my lady, smell different than any other human I’ve ever encountered.”   
My grip on the spoon tightened as I forced myself not to jump at the sudden contact of our skin, although it made my heart beat out of my chest and pulses of electricity race across my body.   
Suddenly, the door from the dining room banged open and Mey Rin burst into the kitchen, her hair untidy and her uniform askew as she screeched out, “Master Sebastian! We desperately need you to….!”   
She stopped in her tracks when she saw us, Sebastian still standing behind me, his arm around my waist, our joined hands on top of the spoon, and her face instantly went a bright red and her glasses fogged up as she cried out, “Oh, my lady! I’m so sorry, please forgive me, yes! So sorry!”   
She curtsied over and over as she backed out the door, covering her nose with a shaking hand as it began to bleed on her way out of the kitchen.   
When the door had slammed shut behind her, I stared after her for a few moments, my mouth hanging open, before I blurted out, “What in the hell just happened?”   
Sebastian laughed and I was once again reminded of how close he was when the sound rang out beside my ear. He leaned closer again for a brief moment, his lips once again at my ear, but hovering, not touching me, and said in a perfectly level, deep, low voice, “I believe that Mey Rin thinks we’re doing more than just cooking, my lady.”   
His words pulled me out of my spell.   
I hurriedly pulled my hand out from underneath his and ducked out from beneath his arm, my face heating as I offered him a quick curtsy, my movements flustered. “I’m glad I could be of help, Sebastian. Thank you for the lesson. I’ll leave you to it.”   
I dared one small glance up at him as I backed away toward the exit of the kitchen. His lips were raised slightly at the corners, shaping the hint of an amused smirk, and his slender eyebrow was lifted as he regarded me, his eyes glowing a deep fuschia, something, probably the emotion of amusement, burning in their depths.   
Damn him.   
I felt the door frame against my back and without another backward glance, I darted from the kitchen, wanting to be as far away from the demon and his unsettling charms as possible before I lost my senses all together.


	12. Game of Chess

I set my pair of long, velvet gloves on the table as Sebastian grabbed the prone man by the collar of his suit jacket and hauled him to his feet, the movement effortless, as if he weighed nothing in Sebastian’s hands.   
Throwing him into a nearby chair, the demon glanced over to where I stood, a look of amusement glinting in his eyes, still glowing fuschia in the dimming light of the dining room, and said in his velvet tone, “Care to do the honors, my lady?”   
His words sent a shiver down my spine. Even when threatening, his voice flowed over me like dark honey, his perfectly clipped words falling from his crimson lips like water.   
I pulled myself from my thoughts. I needed to focus on the cowering man in the chair before us, held in place by Sebastian’s firm grip, his eyes wide with fear as they darted between the two of us. I stepped lightly across the room from the table, to where Lord Estres sat, and leaned close to him, offering him a sweet smile as I said pleasantly, “You’re the guest of honor tonight, my lord. Let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we?”   
He met my cold gaze with a look of terror dancing in his eyes, and he struggled a bit in Sebastian’s iron grip as he said in a strangled tone, “Please. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”   
I straightened and Sebastian and I exchanged a glance over the man’s head. He nodded to me, once, firmly, and I turned back to Lord Estres, my lips curving upward in a malicious smirk as I intoned, “Oh, I’m sure you will. So let’s start with something easy.” I sat down on the restrained man’s lap and ran a finger down the lapel of his jacket, careful not to touch his skin, as I purred in a low voice, “Why were you using the Funtom Company for your drug manufacturing?”   
The man swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, before he said nervously, his words spilling out of his mouth in some form of babble, “He told us to do it. Use the Phantomhive company for the drugs. We were only doing what we were told.”   
“Mmmmhmmm.” I nodded in affirmation at his words, stopping the movement of my hand on his suit jacket as I pinned him with my gaze. I could see the sweat forming on his brow and upper lip under the intense scrutiny. “Do you always listen to your superiors so blindly, Lord Estres? It seems awfully unimaginative to follow orders without knowing the reason behind them. Doesn’t it, Sebastian?” I looked up and met the butler’s red gaze, his eyes locking with mine as his lips curled upward in a slight smirk. He was enjoying toying with our plaything just as much as I was.   
“Indeed, my lady.” I saw his fingers clench slightly on the shoulders of the man before me, making him wince underneath me at the sudden increase of pressure and the change in the steely grip. Sebastian leaned down, his tall frame bending, his movements almost feline in their grace, and put his mouth close to Lord Estres’ ear, as he murmured smoothly, “You must trust your boss very much, Lord Estres, to follow him so devotedly.”   
The man squirmed uncomfortably and Sebastian straightened again, keeping his hands planted firmly on the man’s shoulders, as I spoke up again, inspecting my fingernails nonchalantly as I said in an easy voice, “Speaking of your boss. Who is he?”   
When he didn’t answer directly, I dropped my hand and pierced him with an intense gaze, grabbing the lapel of his jacket and dragging him toward me slightly, so our faces were inches apart as I breathed threateningly, once again, “Who. Is. He.”   
He tried to pull back from me, but I held him, immovable, in front of me, as he stuttered out, sweat starting to drip down his temples, “I don’t know! Honestly! We’ve never seen him! He always sends a middle man to give the orders!” His eyes flicked between Sebastian and I, pleading to believe him, his face taut with panic, his voice rising in volume. “Please! I’m telling the truth! I don’t know!”   
I released him and he fell back against the chair, breathing hard, his chest heaving underneath the fabric of his white shirt. I stood, moving to stand directly in front of the chair and the man trapped there, and then met Sebastian’s gaze, as I said conversationally to him, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to do more, Sebastian? I’m having all the fun.”   
His eyes flashed brightly at my statement, and he smiled, exposing his sharp canines for a brief moment before he replied graciously, his fingers digging a little bit more into Lord Estres’ shoulders with his answer, “I’m sure, my lady. Honestly, I’ve heard so much about this ‘talent’ of yours. But I have yet to truly see it in action. I’m fascinated to see you work.” He raised a slender dark brow as he apprised me, his lips still faintly quirked in the ending of a smirk.   
I felt my heart thump a little in my chest as he studied me for a few more moments with his intense gaze, and then I directed my attention back to the man before me, shrinking backward into his char as my concentration once again fell back on him. I stepped toward him, causing him to try to wriggle further away from me, but Sebastian held him firmly in place, as I reached out a hand, holding it lightly above his cheek, as I said softly, “Very well. Then see me work, you shall.” I crouched down before Lord Estres, his frantic gaze lighting on my face, my hand still hovering above his cheek, and asked one last time, “This is your last chance, you son of a bitch. Who are you working for?”   
Words bubbled forth from Lord Estres’ mouth like frothing saliva as he tried to save himself. “Please! I told you! I don’t know!” I dropped my hand closer to his face and he flinched away from me, his eyes widening as he screeched out, “Wait! I can tell you where to meet one of his messengers! It’s a dump spot in the forest! Near the old cathedral! He would have us meet there to receive our assignments!”   
I pulled my hand back from his skin slightly, my fingers curling and uncurling in the air beside his cheek as I mulled over the information he had just told me. He seemed relieved, as if he thought he would now be saved.   
But he was wrong.   
A grin slipped across my lips as I met his gaze once more, and when I spoke, my tone was laced with dark amusement as I said, “Thank you for that. But it wasn’t the answer to the question I asked.” I lowered my hand toward the skin of his cheekbone, the pale flesh glinting in the light from the candles, my fingers itching to touch, to burn. I flicked my eyes back up to the man’s terror filled gaze, and offered him a humorless smile as I continued, my voice cold. “So I’ll have to punish you anyway.”   
And then, my fingertips connected with his flesh.   
The man let out a scream of pain and terror, as the flesh beneath my touch immediately began to sizzle and slough away. I ran my hand down the side of his face, leaving behind a trail of curling, burning skin, that blackened and dropped off, even as I watched. I stopped the movement of my hand for a brief moment, watching as the skin on the side of Lord Estres’ face disappeared, the muscle and fat beneath popping and receding to reveal the gleaming of white bone, surrounding by edges of charred flesh.   
The man was still screaming, his eyes wide, his mouth open, spittle flecking his lips and chin as he writhed in Sebastian’s unmoving grasp. I watched him for another moment, and then stood, casually brushing off the skirt of my gown as I looked over to Sebastian. His face revealed nothing about what he had just seen, but he met my gaze with his own, his expression unwavering, before he said over the man’s shrieks, “Are you finished, my lady?”   
I nodded at him as I crossed the darkened room to fetch my gloves from the table, saying over my shoulder, “Yes. We’ve gotten all we will out of him. Remove his tongue and let him go. His face will get the message across to this ‘mystery’ boss of his.”   
I stood at the table, not looking back, as I heard movement and then the man stopped screaming.   
I pulled on one of my gloves, not looking up as I heard the sound of someone slumping to the floor, and then the scrabbling of dress shoes on tile, as the man ran past me and out of the room, the doors to the dining room slamming behind his hasty departure.   
The room was silent now, dark in the light of evening, the sun having set long ago.   
I heard Sebastian’s soft steps crossing the room toward me, but once again, I didn’t look up as I picked up the other glove from the surface of the table, moving to pull it back onto my other hand that was still left bare.   
However, before I could get the glove on, slender fingers encircled my wrist, just above my exposed hand, the feel of cool skin a stark contrast to the heat emitted from my bare forearm.  
I whirled around to face Sebastian, my wrist still firmly in his grasp, the empty glove dangling from my other hand, and my mouth opened slightly in surprise as I realized how close he was standing to me. Our faces were inches apart, my hand held aloft by his to the side of us, our warm breath mingling in the small space between us. I felt a slight blush rise to my cheeks as I said in a hoarse whisper, “Sebastian. Please be careful.”   
He seemed to know what I meant, because the fingers that encircled my wrist tightened slightly as he offered me a slight smile, his eyes pools of brilliant scarlet as he said in a low voice, “I’m intrigued, my lady.”   
I felt my heart pounding in my chest at his closeness. I could see every fleck of red in his irises, every dark hair that fell over his porcelain brow, every bone that arched across his cheeks. I swallowed hard and got out, “With what?”   
He tilted his head slightly, as if confused about what I was asking, his dark locks falling into his eyes. “With this.” He pulled my naked hand in between the two of us, flipping it palm up, as we both looked down at his fingers lightly grasping my wrist. “It intrigues me. You intrigue me.” At his words, he released his hold on my skin and raised his hand, putting a finger underneath my chin and lifting to my face to meet his gaze again. He blinked slowly, lazily, almost like a cat, and then the familiar smirk crossed his full lips as he leaned toward me and took in a deep breath, as if he were smelling me. Just like earlier in the kitchen. “I knew you smelled differently from other humans. You’re not the same as they are.”   
I held still, like a statue, as he remained close to me, his chin at my forehead, his nose lightly touching the hair on the top of my head. My heart felt as if it were going to burst forth at any moment, and I’m sure he could hear it with how close we stood. My bare hand, now forgotten, hung limply at my side. I swallowed again, my mouth dry, and said softly, “You knew that. That’s why you found me.”   
I heard him chuckle, a low growl in his chest, and then he pulled back from me a bit, just enough that he could meet my gaze, his fuschia eyes burning more brightly than I had ever seen them before. I was glad it was dark in the room, because the feel of heat on my cheeks hinted to the fact that I was furiously blushing.   
“Yes. But you see, I’ve lived among humans for thousands of years.” He arched an eyebrow at the look of surprise that must have come across my face at his statement. Amusement flashed across his bright eyes as he continued. “And you see, I’ve never taken an interest in any of them. Do you know why, my lady?” I managed to shake my head and he cocked his own slightly in response, as if curious what I would think of what he was going to say. “Simply because humans are boring. They’re predictable. They’re unoriginal. Uninteresting.”  
I felt as if I should be offended by the remarks he was making, but I couldn’t find the will to be. Not when he was so close. His breath brushing the loose strands of my hair as he spoke in his dark voice, a voice that I could listen to for hours, a voice that made me think of black panthers moving smoothly as they stalked their prey.   
I felt his fingers go around my wrist again, and they were dangerously close to touching the palm of my hand. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, to be careful, but he didn’t move them again as he locked our gazes, and then said in a low voice, “Yes. I’ve never taken an interest in humans. That is, until Ciel Phantomhive.” His smooth smirk slid across his lips once again, his white teeth flashing in the dim light of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly on my wrist. “He was the first human who intrigued me. And I thought he’d be the last. But you.” His voice grew different, deeper, more intense, as if he was struggling with the realization he was about to speak aloud. I was frozen, watching his every movement, his lips pulling against his teeth as they formed words, his eyes flashing red and then deep scarlet, his fingers completely still on my skin. He held my gaze, both of us unblinking, neither one of us breathing, and then he murmured, his body frozen, his tone deadly serious, “You intrigue me more than I thought possible.”   
I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. He was a demon. An entity that didn’t belong in this realm. Yet, I had captured his attention. Why?   
I was a human, a cursed human, but a human nonetheless, so why was he so intrigued with me? And I with him?   
My thoughts were broken by Sebastian breaking the silence and stillness between us, as he stepped back, releasing his hold on my wrist as he did so, his once again unreadable expression coming across his features like a mask. He bowed to me slightly, and then said, his voice formal and polite once again, “I’ve kept you long enough, my lady. You should get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”   
He walked past me and exited the dining room, the light from the hallway flooding into the dark room from the open doorway he had left behind him. I slipped on my remaining glove and hurried from the room, heading toward the stairs, as my mind whirled with all that had just happened, my thoughts flashing through my head in a jumbled mess.   
What the hell was happening?   
This contract was quickly becoming more complicated than I ever could have originally planned.   
I reminded myself, as I hurried down the dark hallways, back to my room, that I was doing this for the end motivation, the revenge I had always wanted. But as I entered the darkness of my bedroom and locked the door behind me, I realized something.   
I was playing chess with a demon.   
And things were quickly spiralling out of control.


	13. Old Acquaintances

Later that same night, I stood, silently, frozen, hidden in the blackness surrounding me, waiting.   
It was chilly, my breath was creating steaming clouds in front of my face everytime I exhaled, and I pulled my cloak around me tighter, the hood hanging low over my eyes.   
I glanced upward, trying to catch a glimpse of Sebastian in the spiraling tree branches blocking out the night sky over my head, but it was too dark, I couldn’t see anything.   
I flicked my gaze over to the ruins that took up much of the meadow I was standing in, and tapped my foot impatiently as I saw nothing. I really wished this informant would show up already. It was bloody cold, and I was getting annoyed with waiting. I brushed my fingers across the barrel of the revolver hidden in the folds of my clock, the cylinder cold against my skin, and clicked my nails lightly along the metal as I waited.   
As if my thoughts had caused the person in question to materialize, the sound of a twig snapping made me whirl around behind me, and I was greeted by the sight of a dark form stepping out from the line of the woods, coming toward me on almost silent feet. As they drew nearer, I realized they too were wearing a long dark cape, the hood drawn close around their features, their face unseeable in the darkness of the night.   
I watched, on guard, as the informant, who Lord Estres had told us about just earlier that evening, arrived before me, clearly already expecting to meet someone at the meeting place on the old cathedral grounds.   
We stood, regarding each other, silent, in the blackness, and then the mysterious figure spoke.   
“You’re here for the orders?”   
I nodded, remaining silent, not wanting to give away my identity just yet, so early in the game, and held out a hand, my gloved fingers splayed.   
The informant reached into their cloak and pulled out a bound sheath of papers, reaching out to drop them into my outstretched hand.   
The orders. I had them.   
Casually slipping them inside the bag underneath my cloak, I glanced back up at the dark form in front of me, and then grinned, the action hidden beneath the shadow of my hood as I said, “Thanks. These will be very helpful.”   
The person underneath the cloak took a step back from me at my voice, and even though I couldn’t see their expression, I could tell by their body language that they were slightly shocked. “Wait. You’re not the usual receiver ...Your voice…..”   
I didn’t wait for them to finish their train of thought.   
Whipping out the revolver, the metal shining underneath the light from the moon as it appeared from behind the clouds, I clicked the hammer into place, finger resting lightly on the trigger, as I pointed the weapon directly at the informant’s head.   
They tried to step back from me again, but their path back into the woods was suddenly blocked by none other than Sebastian, dropping down silently from the trees above, and landing on his feet blithely, like a cat.   
They ran into his solid chest, whirling around to face him, as he offered them his customary smirk, his scarlet eyes flashing in the light from the moon, as he said smoothly, “I wouldn’t if I were you.”   
Keeping the revolver trained on the dark form, now trapped between us, I took a few steps closer, and hissed out, “Get down on your knees. Hands on your head. Do it. Now.”   
The figure dropped, following my orders, and Sebastian reached out to remove their hood, revealing their face.   
As the moon hit the informant’s features, I swore softly under my breath.   
“Shit.”   
Sebastian heard and he raised an eyebrow curiously at my outburst, but didn’t say anything verbally, as I gathered my thoughts.   
The girl, still kneeling in front of Sebastian, looked up at me from underneath her raised arms, and offered me a devious grin, as she spoke for the first time since being caught. “I knew it was you. I recognized your voice.”   
“Shut up!” I spat through my teeth, placing the barrel of the gun against her temple, cocked and ready, the end pressing into her pale skin. I needed time to think, I needed time to figure out how to get out of this situation I suddenly found myself in.   
The girl laughed, a light, airy sound, not seeming to be phased by the cool metal of a gun so close against her head, and then she sneered up at me again, saying cockily, “Still wearing the gloves, I see? But it seems you’re more than a lousy pickpocket now.” She jerked her head in Sebastian’s direction, her voice taunting as she continued. “Looks like you’ve moved up in the world, (F/N).”   
My name coming from her mouth made me freeze, it made it seem suddenly all too real. This was a mess. And we needed to deal with it.   
Crouching down in front of the girl, I pulled back my hood, so that we could see each other, and as she grinned, once again, at my identity being revealed, I pressed the gun against her head, harder this time, and growled out, “Congratulations. You recognized me. It’s been what? Five years now, Clary?”   
Her eyes darkened at my statement, and her face twisted into what appeared to be some form of a slightly amused scowl as she said, “Yeah, or more. But you made a big name for yourself around town. I’ve never stopped hearing about you.” She laughed, the sound slightly more sinister than earlier, and glared at me as she hissed out between yellowed teeth, “However, as you can see, I’ve moved up in life as well.”   
“You’ve always been ambitious.” I replied nonchalantly, reaching out to place a finger under her chin, forcing her to tilt her head and meet my eyes as I said, “So tell me. Who’s your new big boss?”   
She cackled, shaking her head slightly, her greasy blonde locks slipping over her eyes before she refocused on me, her eyes burning, and said indignantly, “I won’t tell. I’m not stupid.”   
“I know you’re not stupid, Clary.” I dug my fingers into her chin, causing her to wince slightly as I pulled her closer to me. Our faces were inches apart, the gun still held to her head, our breath hot in the space between us, as I breathed out threateningly, “That’s why, I know you’re going to make the smart decision here.”   
Her eyes flicked across my face, reading the seriousness there, and then she growled out, her lips pulling back in a snarl, “I won’t tell you anything. Kill me. Do it. I don’t care.”   
I let out a long suffering sigh and pulled back from her, motioning to Sebastian as I stood, putting the gun back beneath my cloak as I said boredly to him, “Get her up.”   
Without a word, he pulled Clary to her feet, holding either of her arms tightly in his strong, gloved grip, as she tried to fight against him, glancing up at his impassive face as she struggled wildly for a moment. Breathless, she gave up and hung limply from his grip, as she met my gaze with burning hatred and spat out, “Who’s your little guard dog? Does he do all the heavy lifting for you and you take all the credit?”   
“On the contrary.” Sebastian spoke for the first time in a long while, his lips curving upward in a slightly amused smile as he addressed the captive in his grip politely. “The Lady herself does quite a capable job on her own.”   
Clary struggled in his hands again, and when she couldn’t free herself, she spat in the dirt at my feet, snarling out, “Yeah, well, don’t let her fool you. She’s been cursed by the Devil. She’s not human.”   
I was caught off guard by her statement. No one knew about my hands, the burning, the fire, the curse. So how did she?   
And then it clicked. Sebastian and Ciel Phantomhive had known. So her boss, the guy behind all of this, must too.  
Pulling the gun out once more, I settled the aim between her eyes. I was done with this negotiation. It was cold, and I wasn’t going to wait anymore. “Come on, Clary. Enough with the games. Tell me who your boss is.”   
“Or what?” She laughed out, clearly taunting me as she set her features stubbornly.   
Clicking the hammer of the gun back into place, the sound loud in the quiet of the night, “I’ll kill you. And you know he won’t care. He’ll just replace you with some other lowlife from the Underworld. You’re not special, Clary. You’re a pawn.”   
She seemed to consider my words for a moment, and then her face went hard again as she hissed out, “Go to hell.”   
I shrugged slightly. “Suit yourself.” I motioned to Sebastian with a jerk of my head. “Sebastian.”   
His eyes, suddenly glowing fuschia in the dark of the night, were lit up in the darkness, reflecting the light from the moon, as he leaned down, putting his lips to the girl’s ear. His voice, dark, velvety, alluring, was low as he said, his lips moving against her flesh, “Have you ever thought about hell? Because every human does.”   
Her eyes widened slightly at his words, as she began to struggle again in his grasp, trying to get away from him. His lips curved upward slightly, as he crushed her back against him, stopping her movements, and he brought up one gloved hand, carefully placing his fingers, one by one, to cover her mouth. His lips still at her ear, he whispered softly, darkly, “Hell isn’t what you would imagine. It’s quite different than the picture you humans have painted. It’s much more complex. And it’s designed specifically, individually, for each soul.” Clary started screaming underneath the pressure of his hand over her mouth, the sound muffled, but he didn’t move, frozen, his lips still curved into a smirk, as he continued, quietly, coldly, factually, “And you know, humans are simple creatures. They lack the knowledge to understand. But.” He flashed his gaze over to me, watching them intently, and something sparked in his glowing eyes, as he locked his gaze with mine, his attention no longer on Clary as he murmured intently, “There are some, humans I mean, that understand slightly. They are given a taste of hell. They understand, just a bit, what it means. And those humans.” He finally dropped his gaze from mine, glancing back over at the flailing girl in his hands, and his voice, already deep and dark and serious, seemed to shift into a purr as he said softly, “Those humans are the only ones who truly understand that it is not death that should be feared. But life itself.”   
And with that sentence still ringing in the air of the night around us, he jerked her head to the side with a resounding crack, and Clary’s body went limp in his arms, gone just as quickly as she had appeared.   
I felt a slight hint of remorse as Sebastian laid her body down on the ground at his feet gently, watching her blonde hair fall over her face, her lifeless body already starting to grow cold. She was just a product of the environment, she was too similar to me, the Underworld had molded her into something even she herself didn’t recognize. It could just as easily have been me lying, silent, still, cold, at Sebastian’s feet.   
“My lady?”   
Sebastian’s gentle tone pulled me from my reverie, and I pulled my hood back up and over my head as I glanced over to him, watching me closely, his eyes still glowing red in the darkness. Walking past him, leaving the clearing without a second glance, I said over my shoulder, “Let’s go. We have the plans.”   
And as we left the woods behind, a small part of me, the part that was still human, hoped that Clary was finally getting the rest she deserved.


	14. Price of Touch

“And these are the plans you got from the informant? All of them?”   
I nodded, standing in front of the now familiar, large, wooden desk, in the slightly darkened study, the only night the full moon streaming in through the open window. “Yes.” I replied to the boy sitting before us, as he poured slowly over the papers I had handed him only moments before.   
Ciel Phantomhive ceased his reading and looked up at me, his one revealed eye shining a dark blue in the light from the moon. Finally, after studying me for several moments of silence, he nodded, seemingly appeased, and turned back to reading over the papers, waving me dismissively away with his hand as he said distractedly, “Fine then. You may go. We’ll reconvene tomorrow.”   
Normally, I would have retorted back something at his slightly flippant and superior tone, but tonight, I wanted nothing more than to just go back to the sanctity of my room and be alone.   
Too many emotions and thoughts, none pleasant, were battling for attention in my head, and I was exhausted.   
Sebastian, leaving the study and exiting the hall with me, offered me the crook of his elbow, as he offered me a hint of a smile and said politely, “I’ll see you to your room, my lady.”   
I didn’t argue, I was too tired, so I simply slipped my gloved hand around his offered arm and walked with him in silence, down the long corridors of the dark and silent mansion, until we reached the door of my room.   
The butler pushed open the heavy oak door as if it weighed nothing, and then, as I collapsed into a sitting position on the bed, leaning down with a long sigh to begin to remove my soiled boots, he went around the room, lighting a few candles and lanterns on the walls for me, bathing the room in a soft, yellow glow.   
Kicking off my shoes, stretching my stockinged feet for a moment, I glanced up, as Sebastian, finished with his task, offered me a slight bow, and made his goodbyes, saying, “If that’s all, my lady…”   
I watched him walk toward the door, my thoughts loud, screaming, beating at the walls of my head, and then, before I could stop myself, I called out to him hesitantly. “Sebastian…”   
He paused in his exit, turning to glance over his shoulder at me, one slender eyebrow raised curiously, as he asked, a slight hint of surprise in his velvety tone, “Yes, my lady?”   
I bit my lip, wringing my hands silently in my lap, nervously, for a brief moment, before I said, hearing the slight tinge of sadness in my own words, “You told me before. That humans are boring. Predictable.”   
He turned to face me, his gloved hands folded neatly in front of him, his dark suit clad figure casting eerie shadows in the flickering light of the candles. His face was as smooth, as expressionless, as always, but from the way he turned back to me at my question, I could tell he was intrigued by what I was getting at. “Yes?” He cocked his head slightly as he watched me, a curious motion, and then said factually, “Humans are predictable creatures. They are beings driven clearly by emotion.” He stepped toward me, his crimson eyes still locked on my face, my own eyes downcast in my lap, not wanting to meet his intense gaze that I could feel burning holes into my head. “That girl tonight. You knew her, yes?”   
I swallowed hard, stopping the movement of my hands in my lap, and finally forced myself to look up and meet his swirling fuschia gaze, as I said softly, “Yes. She was an acquaintance. No particular bond.”   
“But.” The corner of Sebastian’s mouth curled upward at the word, as he took another step toward me, his eyes burning brighter than before as he held my gaze. “As a human, even if you simply know someone, it is still normal to feel emotion about that certain person.” He raised a long, dark eyebrow at me once again, and offered me a slight smile, as he asked perceptively, “Are you sad about her? That girl?”   
I shook my head harshly. Damn it all. How was it as if he could see right through me?   
“No.” I stuttered out, still shaking my head, his ever perceptive gaze still scanning across my face as he stood before me, his hands once again folded neatly in front of him. “I just…” I hesitated, briefly, trying to search through the frantic flurried thoughts that were racing through my mind, and the sudden pounding of my heart, now that Sebastian was standing so near. “It’s not that exactly. I guess I just feel sad that I don’t feel more upset about what happened to her.” I sucked in a deep breath, my lips trembling slightly, as I finally put it into words. I looked back up to Sebastian, our gazes locking, the depths of his irises dark, blood red in the dim light of the candles, and then I murmured, “If being emotional is human, then sometimes, I fear I am not human at all.”   
The silence grew between us after my statement, and the only sound I was aware of was the sound of my own blood rushing loudly in my ears, as I waited for Sebastian to respond. Why had I even told him all of that in the first place? It didn’t make sense. He didn’t make sense. And I didn’t know why I suddenly felt the need to pour my heart out to the man, the demon, standing silently in front of me.   
I heard the door click quietly shut, and I looked up in surprise, almost half wondering if he had just left after my blurted and entirely unneeded confession, but he was still there, leaning back against the closed door, his expression slightly thoughtful, his brow creased, his porcelain skin slightly wrinkled as if he were deep in thought.   
I suddenly felt incredibly awkward for telling him all of that, and I felt a hot blush creeping up my neck and cheeks as I choked out lamely, ready to take it all back, “Sebastian….”   
Ignoring my call of his name, he pushed himself up from the door and crossed the room to me, his eyes suddenly glowing in the dim light of the bedroom, as he came to stand before me, so close that I could have reached out and touched him if I had wanted to. His face, smoothed out once again, was set, his eyes locked with mine, the distance between us almost nonexistent.   
“Take off your gloves.”   
I felt emotions flicker rapidly across my face at the words: disbelief, astonishment, and lastly, but the strongest by far, fear.   
“What are you saying?” I shook my head fiercely, the pounding in my ears louder than my frightened breaths, and shrunk back against the wall behind me, away from him. “You know why I can’t. You’ve seen it for yourself.”   
His crimson eyes flashed red in the candlelight and his mouth quirked up into the familiar dark smirk I knew so well. He held out a slender, gloved hand toward me. “F/N.” His fingers twitched, as if beckoning me toward him, but when he spoke, his low voice was just as unwavering as ever. “I am merely one hell of a butler. And you are not wrong to distrust me. But in this case, I would very much like you to.”   
I watched him warily, standing there before me, not a thing out of place, his dark suit pressed to perfection, his white gloves glistening, his lips still tilted upward in that damn smirk that took my breath away and irritated me all the same.   
Behind the fear still constricting my chest, I realized that another emotion was fighting to come through, and it reverbated a lot like the phrase the man in front of me had just uttered in his last statement.   
Trust.   
I trusted him.   
Before the fear could take over again and halt my progress, I raised a trembling, sheathed hand in front of me, and never removing my own eyes from his piercing scarlet gaze, I pulled my fingers from the glove one by one, the movements agonizingly slow, even to myself.   
Finally, I released the breath I had been holding, as I pulled the last finger from the satin material and let the now empty ghost of a glove flutter to the floor at my feet.   
His eyes lit up slightly, their bloody depths deepening momentarily, before he took a step toward me, his perfectly polished shoes not making a sound on the floor as he shortened the gap between us.   
Raising a slender, dark eyebrow at me, his mouth slid once again into that ever familiar sneer as he spoke, his voice almost a purr, his hand still outstretched toward me. “Very good, my lady. Very good indeed.” With a flash of movement, so fast I almost missed it, he stripped off his own glove, letting it drop swiftly to the floor beside my own discarded cover. The red inked seal on the back of his hand, revealed now that his glove was gone, seemed to shine under the flickering candlelight and his obsidian nails disappeared into the surrounding blackness, a stark contrast to his pale skin.   
I swallowed hard as I studied his hand, still extended toward me, and then glanced down at my own; bare, pale, uncovered, held closely against my body for protection-Whether mine or his, I didn’t clearly know.   
“It’s time, F/N.”   
His velvet voice penetrated my thoughts and I snapped my gaze back up to his, which felt as if it were boring a hole right through my chest and into my wildly pounding heart.   
I clutched my hand tighter against myself and felt fear start to boil, bitter, up into my throat again. “I can’t….I can’t do it…..what if I…..”   
He cocked his head to the side, his onyx hair falling over one eye, and the motion implied curiosity, as if he didn’t understand why I still hesitated. “You took off your glove. Which implies that, even if it’s not wise, you trust me in some form or the other. So there’s no reason for you to pause, if that’s true. You’ve decided to trust me, and that should be enough for you to do whatever I order without hesitation.”   
He was right. I had decided to trust him. I had come this far.   
I unclenched my naked hand from the fabric of my dress and raised it slowly in front of my body, until our outstretched fingers were mere inches apart-his steady and unwavering, mine trembling enough that I knew without a doubt he had noticed the vibrations across my skin.   
I met his stare once again and steeled myself, forcing my lips into a tight line as I steadied the shaking in my hand and then said in a firm voice, “All right.” I lifted my chin, hoping he could see the resolve in my eyes and the steel in my features. “I’m ready, Sebastian.”   
He actually smiled then, his sharp teeth glistening in the low light of the room, his pupils flashing into a vivid fuschia beneath the strands of dark hair that fell over his flawless face.   
And then he murmured the words.   
Words no one had ever said to me in my entire hellacious existence, the statement that had never been spoken in my presence, two words that would never willingly be uttered to me; a monster.   
He said them, out loud, his tone steady, confident, demanding, as if he wanted me to obey; no, needed me to obey.   
“Touch me, F/N.”  
I swallowed hard, my fingers and his barely separated, it would only take the slightest of movements for me to connect our skin. So why did it feel like the biggest and hardest thing I had ever done?   
“F/N.” I flicked my gaze up to his, vivid red irises not leaving my face, and though it was strange to hear him call me by my given name after all this time, it somehow felt right falling from his lips, like sweetly trickling water. His lips lifted in the hint of a smile again, as he said reassuringly, his tone smooth and thick like dark velvet, “Trust me.”   
Darting my tongue out to wet my suddenly dry lips, I took in a deep breath, and before I could think another thought about it, I closed my eyes and reached out for him.   
Our fingers touched.   
I waited. Waited for the familiar feeling of flesh melting under my fingertips, waited for the acrid smell of burning skin to fill my nose, but it never came.   
“Open your eyes.”   
The uttered command gave me the courage to flutter open my eyelids, and I gasped slightly, not being able to help myself, as I looked down and saw Sebastian’s fingers held in my own. My trembling fingertips were pressed against his own, and it took me a moment to realize that nothing was burning, nothing was happening, in fact, his skin was cold and smooth beneath my own.   
“Holy shit.” I breathed out, trusting now that I wasn’t imagining what was happening.   
Carefully, I stroked my fingers up across his long, slender fingers and across pale knuckles, tracing, after a moment of hesitation, the glowing brand that was marked across the otherwise flawless skin that made up the back of his hand. I realized, as I touched him, that my heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that he must hear it, and that my lips were slightly parted as my breath came in disbelieving gasps, but it didn’t matter. Not in that moment.   
I was touching him.   
“Holy shit.” I said again, my fingers pausing in their movement over Sebastian’s skin to just take it all in, to feel, what normal skin felt like under their touch.   
“Is that all you can say?” Sebastian chuckled slightly, the sound sending a pleasurable shiver across my skin, low and dark and full of something I didn’t understand.   
I glanced up at him, his eyes scarlet as they watched me, his eyebrows raised slightly, disappearing under strands of onyx hair, a slight smirk playing across his lips at my reaction. I looked back down at our hands, still touching, and he must have sensed what I wanted before I asked, because in one smooth movement, he flipped his hand over, revealing his palm to me, and as I began to trace across the lines that made up his skin, I asked breathlessly, “Is this what real human skin feels like?”   
“I pride myself in making my human disguise as close to the real thing as possible.” I heard the slight amusement in his tone, but didn’t look up, mesmerized by my own fingers’ movements. “So yes, this is what it really feels like.”   
“Sebastian..” I uttered his name, not really sure of what I was going to say, still too in awe with the feel of his own cool, smooth skin beneath my shaking fingers.   
“Yes?”   
I could feel his gaze on my bent head, and I finally looked up, meeting his gaze, as I said without thinking, “I’ve never touched anyone like this. I’ve never touched anyone without hurting them. This is all so….” I paused, trying to articulate what I wanted to say. “Surreal? You promise it doesn’t hurt you?” I suddenly felt worry well up in my stomach and I pulled my hand back from his own, realizing that maybe he was only less pained by my touch, not completely safe from it.   
I didn’t want to hurt him.   
“It doesn’t hurt me.” I glanced up at him as he assured me, worrying my lip between my teeth, my revealed hand now clenched back safely in the folded fabric of my skirt. He cocked his head as he studied me, and then he took a step closer to me, catching me off guard as he backed me against the wall, his hand going up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear, a slight smirk on his lips, as he asked quietly, “You were worried about me?”   
I felt a blush rising into my cheeks, and I avoided his gaze as I said nervously, “Well, I mean, I…”   
“See. You continue to intrigue me, my lady.” He cut off my stuttered words, as he leaned toward me, his nose skimming my ear, and I felt him take a deep breath of my scent, his breath warm against my neck, as he murmured smoothly, “What kind of human worries about a demon? Either you’re incredibly stupid, or you’re the only one of your kind. Either way.” He glanced at me, his slanted, feline like scarlet eyes holding my own, as he swiped his tongue slowly across his bottom lip, revealing a flash of pointed white canines. “Consider me captivated.”   
My breath caught nervously in my throat at his statement, at his nearness, at the feel of his hot exhales washing across my suddenly goose bump covered skin, and I swallowed, trying to bring moisture back to my suddenly dry mouth, as I met his gaze more courageously than I felt, and said softly, “Then that makes two of us.”   
He smirked at my obviously over bold statement, his sharp teeth flashing into view again, and without thinking about it, I reached up with my naked hand and pressed my fingertips gently against his arched cheekbone.   
Once again, I was caught off guard by just how smooth his skin was underneath my fingers. I had never dreamed skin actually felt like this. It was so...pleasurable.   
He didn’t move, didn’t pull back from my sudden touch to his face, his eyes still holding mine, his irises swirling in changing shades of reds, and I took that as a sign to continue. Letting my fingers run down the delicate bone structure of his face, I hesitated, only briefly, before I let my thumb trace gently over his lips, the skin soft and warm beneath the pad of my thumb, his mouth still slightly damp from his tongue darting out only moments before.   
His lips parted slightly under my continued gentle perusal and I felt his balmy breath wash over my thumb and fingers, causing me to shiver slightly, as I finally looked up once again, from watching the movements of his mouth beneath my fingertips, to meet his gaze.   
“Sebastian.” His name dropped from my lips, unbidden, as he drew me into the folds of his scarlet gaze, his lips quirking just the smallest amount beneath my now still fingers, into the now familiar smirk, the same smirk that made my heart pound and my breath grow short.   
“(F/N).” He repeated my name in return, raising a dark eyebrow in a questioning manner, as if only waiting for what I would say next.   
Only, I didn’t know what I wanted to say next.   
Because none of this made sense.   
He was a demon. He wasn’t even human.  
And yet, he was the only person in my entire life, that I had ever been able to touch freely.   
And I was loathe to admit it, but I wanted more.   
I wanted to feel how every inch of his skin felt beneath my fingertips.   
The desire was so intense, so hungry, so aching, that I feared I wouldn’t be able to control it much longer.   
I wanted, no, I needed, to touch him.   
“Sebastian. I….” I tried again, my thoughts jumbled, my body suddenly feeling flushed.   
“My lady.” Sebastian interrupted me, noticing my hesitation, and leaning toward me again, his lips went against my ear, his skin brushing my own, as he murmured darkly, “Demons do not experience emotions in the same way humans do.” I felt his lips lift slightly against my ear, the smirk was back, and it made me shiver involuntarily, when he spoke again, his voice slightly dangerous beneath chocolatey undertones, “But that does not mean that we do not understand carnal desires.”   
I blushed slightly at his words, but before I could react anymore than that, his slender fingers were beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him, his eyes flashing scarlet in the candlelight, his lips still slightly quirked in an amused expression, but hiding an intense edge, as he looked down at me.   
And when he murmured his next statement, his words, laced with intention and velvet, feeling as if they were made of the very night themselves, curled around my body, caressing my bare skin and making me catch my breath, as they echoed in my head.   
“You need only ask.”


	15. Past Scars

After Sebastian’s uttered words, I stood frozen, my hands still clenched at my sides, the desire to reach out, touch him, feel his skin, still burning like a fire in the pit of my stomach, a dull ache that I couldn’t ignore.   
But an ache that I wasn’t quite sure how to go about satisfying.   
I chewed on my bottom lip as I considered my options, his crimson gaze never leaving my face, the space between us almost nonexistent still, every outward breath, warm, fanning across my skin, making my heart pound wildly in my chest once again.   
Finally, I swallowed, hard, my mouth dry, and met his gaze once again, my eyes flickering down to his lips briefly, pulled upward in the customary smirk as he watched me, and then I said, my voice softer than I had intended, “Sebastian, I don’t….” My words faltered, not quite sure where I was going with this, and he seemed to feel the same, as he cocked his head slightly, curiously, but didn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue. Licking my lips with a dart of my tongue, I continued, even quieter than before, “I don’t want to ask you for something you don’t want to give. I know that you’re bound by contract to do Ciel’s bidding. But we have no such contract. You’re not required to do anything I ask. And I want you to have free will. This should be your decision.”   
I waited, breath held, as the demon standing before me studied me silently, and I swore, just for a moment, that I saw surprise flash across his scarlet irises, before the emotion was gone, and he was unreadable as ever, the swirling red depths of his eyes watching me, as he said smoothly, almost in amusement, “And there it is again, my lady. One of the many reasons you intrigue me.” He raised a slender brow at me, as one of his hands came up and his fingers gripped my chin, gently, his skin cool against my own flushed face, forcing me to look at him, as he murmured in dulcet tones, “Worrying about a demon. You are indeed an oddity among your kind.”   
His fingertips dug slightly into my skin, just enough to make me shiver beneath his touch, and he must have noticed, because his lips flickered upward, briefly, in the hint of a slight smile, before he released me, and stepped back, reaching up to unbutton his overcoat as he said factually, “Unlike humans, I suffer from no such sense of loyalty, or morality.” He glanced over at me, watching him intently, as he neatly laid his discarded overcoat over the back of the chair, and began to roll up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. His eyes flashed, fuschia and bright, against the candlelight, and he stepped back toward me, his sleeves rolled up this elbows now, revealing pale, flawless skin, etched with a map of veins that flexed when he moved. His fingers, finding purchase underneath my chin once again, stroked slightly down the smooth skin of my neck, my pulse going crazy beneath his fingers, as he offered me a knowing smirk, and said, slightly under his breath, “I have no problem being a plaything, or being used, for that matter. Especially not when I myself find the idea…” He hesitated briefly, his eyes burning into mine, the breath leaving my chest at his intense expression. “So tantalizing.”   
He tilted his head slightly, almost like the gesture of a cat, as he studied me, and I was sure he could hear my heartbeat pounding, see the blood rushing through my veins, knew exactly of the affect his touch was having on me. But he didn’t comment on it, instead, removing his fingers from my neck, and pulling back a bit, as he looked down at me and then said darkly, “However. I do have one request, if you would indulge me, my lady.”   
I swallowed, trying to rewet my mouth, trying to desperately catch my breath in the slight space he had opened between us, before he overcame my senses once again, and completely jumbled my thoughts. “And what is that?” I was ashamed at how breathless I sounded, the slight blush returning to my cheeks at my own realization of how much he affected me.   
I hated it. I was not weak. I didn’t get this way around men.   
But Sebastian was not just a man. He was a demon, and though I was loathe to admit it, his intrigue, his interest, his obsession, was entirely mutual.   
“I want to see the scars on your back.”   
I was pulled from my thoughts by his statement, said so calmly, so confidently. My gaze shot up to his in surprise, and my mouth dropped open, as he continued to watch me, unphased. “How do you know about that?” I choked out, suddenly feeling slightly defensive, wondering if Mey Rin had said something to him. Maybe she truly hadn’t believed my riding accident story as completely as I had first thought.   
“(F/N).” The sound of my given name, falling darkly from his lips, made me shiver once again, as he placed his hands on the wall beside my head, caging me in, his arms brushing my ears, as he smirked at me, before murmuring in velvet, “Humans are obtuse, often blind, only believing what they want to believe. Demons are not so easily fooled. We see and know more than we are given credit for.”   
Annoyance coursed through me, briefly, at his statement, annoyance at the fact that he had seen through my facade so easily, annoyance that he knew so much, but it disappeared just as quickly, and was consumed almost instantly by anxiety, as I ducked my head, avoiding his gaze, as I whispered out, “Fine. But you’ll have to help me.”   
“Of course.” He replied smoothly, no hesitation, as I ducked out from beneath his arms and crossed the room, coming to stand beside the bed, one hand gripping the bedpost, fingers itching to drum nervously on the cold wood beneath their grasp. I waited, not looking back at him, and then I felt his fingers, slender, deft, begin to pull at the strings that held my dress. I bit my lip, sure it would be bloody soon from all the times I had repeated the gesture, and waited, clenching at the bed post, my knuckles whitening, as he worked his way downward with ease, the heavy, brocade gown slowly growing looser with his progress.   
When the gown finally fell from my body, pooling around my feet on the floor in waves of teal and shimmering brocade stitching, I closed my eyes, the suddenly chilly air of the bedroom pricking across my bare skin, a rippling wave of goosebumps appearing in its path. I took in a deep breath through my nose, letting the captured air out of my mouth after a brief moment.   
The room was silent.   
Sebastian had made no move to touch me, to push aside the thin fabric of my undergown, and without thinking, I reached up, unlacing the garment from where it was tied around my neck, and I shivered, only slightly, as I felt the almost sheer fabric whisper across my skin, revealing my back, from nape to waist. The undergarment gaped open, and my hands came up instinctually to hold it in place across my breasts, keeping my front covered, as I felt a slight blush start to bloom across my cheekbones.   
The air was cool as it brushed across my suddenly bare flesh, and I risked a quick look over my shoulder at Sebastian, who was still silent, still unmoving, even after my sudden movement to give him what he had asked for.   
I was surprised, in that quick steal of a glance, to see unidentifiable emotions flickering across his normally unreadable features as he looked at me, his head cocked slightly, his brow arched, his dark eyes pools of simmering scarlet.   
“Interesting, isn’t it.” His voice, finally breaking the silence, was liquid, flowing around me, a dark river that held something, something unreadable, hidden beneath its deceivingly smooth depths.   
My fingers dug into the fabric of my dressing gown, clutching it tightly against my body, the blush now hot and red on my cheeks, and I was suddenly caught off guard, letting out a gasp and jumping slightly, when I felt him touch me.   
Long, slender fingers, cool to the touch, traced down the silvery skin that marred my otherwise pale flesh, trailing across pathways that I knew by heart, could trace even against my closed eyelids. Scars that created a story, a story that was so familiar, it was burned into my brain, a story that haunted me, even on the good nights, a story that was a constant reminder of my past, and the people I hated.   
“Interesting,” He repeated, his tone low, his words soft, his fingers still running across my skin, gently, almost as if in a caress, as he murmured, “how those who are revered, looked up to, thought to be the servants of God, are actually more dangerous than the evil they religiously fear.”   
I bit my bottom lip, hard enough that the slightly coppery taste of blood washed across my tongue, and before I could stop myself, I said, my voice trembling slightly, “I was just a kid.” I swallowed, not sure why I suddenly felt nervous to tell him, a demon, of all people, about my past, about what they had done to me. “And my parents….” I paused, collecting myself, one of my hands unclenching from the fabric of my shift to shoot out and grip the bedpost again, knuckles white, as if to steady myself. “They just watched. They brought me there, and they let them….torture me. And they didn’t do shit.”   
“Hmmm.” Sebastian hummed, a sound low in his throat, a sound that made me shiver slightly, in a pleasant way, and his fingers stopped their movement on my skin, briefly, and then I felt his breath at my ear, his lips brushing the delicate flesh there, as he murmured in velvet, “Funny, isn’t it? That humans fear demons so much. So much, in fact, that they’d take it upon themselves to ‘purify’ an innocent child? And yet.” He sighed, only slightly, his breath balmy as it washed over me, and when he spoke again, it was with an air of disappointment and disgust. “The places that humans flock for safety, for sanctuary, actually, in all reality, hold far more evil than what they think lies outside their doors.”   
His fingers, resuming their tracing of the paths across my back, were calming, and soothing, and slowly, one by one, I released my fingers from the safety of the bedpost, and relaxed slightly underneath his fingers. “Sebastian.” His name, breathed from between parted lips, was so quiet that I worried he wouldn’t hear me.   
“Yes?”   
I bit my lip again, the tender flesh already slightly bruised from earlier, and gathering my courage, my stomach suddenly fluttering, my heart pounding against my ribcage, I turned, albeit slowly, to face him, my shift still gathered modestly at my bosom. I hadn’t realized how close he had been to me, and I was slightly startled to see that when I turned to him, our noses were almost touching, our warm breath filling any space that was left between us.   
I felt the blush start to bloom across my face again, and looking down, away from his bloodied gaze, I stuttered out quickly, before I lost my nerve, “You, touching me, the scars, I mean….” I let out a shaky breath, not really sure still what I was trying to say to him, but finally just settled on blurting it out as I said, “They felt better.”   
His fingers brushed underneath my chin, and before I knew what was happening, he had raised my face to meet his gaze, his eyes burning fuschia beneath the shadows of onyx hair, falling gently over his brow, turning his skin to gray tones in the candlelight. His lips, flashing upward in their usual smirk, parted slightly, as he studied me, his grasp firm on my chin, not letting me look away from him, before he said softly, darkly, “Isn’t it funny? A ‘man of God’ gave you those scars, he hurt you for the sake of ‘helping you.” And yet.” He cocked his head, looking at me curiously, and his lips flashed briefly back to reveal pointed, white canines. “The very evil they were trying to dispel, a demon, touches those same scars and hurts you less.”   
“Funny how the world works.” I managed to murmur back to him, using his own choice of words, my gaze still locked with his, my heart still pounding wildly in my chest. I don’t think it had stopped pounding since I had removed my gloves and touched him for the first time, and with his fingers still on my skin, it wasn’t likely to stop beating against my ribcage anytime soon.   
“I would use the word intriguing.” He replied, his hold dropping suddenly from my chin, as his hands brushed up the bare skin of my arms, causing another outbreak of goosebumps, but this time, not because of the cold. I felt his fingers wrap around my biceps, and suddenly, in a smooth motion, and so quickly that I didn’t have time to react, he pushed me back and down onto the bed behind us.   
I let out a slight gasp at the sudden, unexpected movement, but my breath was caught in my throat just as quickly, as Sebastian came up on his knees, straddling me, hovering, not touching me, yet still leaning over me, his hands on either side of my head, his face so close to mine that I could see the darker specks of red dancing in his already crimson irises.   
And there was that damn smirk again. The smirk that twisted his lips upward, the smirk that made my heart pound crazily, that made me catch my breath, the smirk that made the man, the demon, before me, into something even more dangerously beautiful than he already was, if that was possible.   
“Are you frightened?” Sebastian asked, seeming to be genuinely curious, as he regarded me from under dark lashes, his ebony bangs obscuring the burning, swirling gaze only slightly, only enough so that I could catch my breath.   
“No.” I responded immediately, without hesitation, and I was telling the truth.   
I wasn’t frightened. Not of him. And though the constant thump of my heart against my ribs could have been mistaken for fear, it was caused by something else entirely, something that left me breathless and aching to feel his skin underneath my fingertips once again.   
“Should I be?” I asked back in response, slightly breathless, feeling lightheaded  
from the pounding of my heart and the closeness of his proximity.   
He chuckled, only briefly, and without humor, the dark sound sending a pleasant shudder throughout my body, and his lips flashed in something like a self deprecating smile. “Most of your kind would say that you’re more than a little stupid to not be afraid when faced with a demon.” He reached up, pinching a strand of my hair, coming loose from its tight configuration, between two long fingers, studying it in the candlelight, as he said, almost in musing to himself, “Demons are selfish creatures. We see what we want, and we take it. We do this, over and over, for centuries, never breaking the mold, never straying from our nature. We take, and we steal, everything we could ever possibly want, and yet, we are never satisfied.”   
His fingers stilled on my hair, his eyes focused elsewhere, a far off look on his face, as if he was still contemplating what he had just said. Studying him, in the dim flicker of the candlelight, so close that I could feel his expirations washing rhythmically across my face, so close that I could see every spiral of the spinning scarlet vortex that were his eyes, I felt for him.   
I too, knew what it meant, to take and steal, and yet, never be satisfied.   
“You and I,” I broke the silence, and as his gaze snapped back to my face, I reached up, my fingers trembling slightly, to lay my hand alongside his cheekbone, cautiously reaching out to trace my thumb gently across his slightly parted lips, marveling, once again, at how soft and supple the skin was beneath my fingertips. My tongue snaked out to wet my own lips, suddenly dry underneath the scrutiny of his intense gaze, and his eyes flickered, only slightly, to follow the brief movement, as I murmured seriously, “are far more alike than I had ever thought.”   
“My lady.” His voice was a purr, as he turned his head slightly into my roving touch, dark hair falling over heated, piercing eyes. “I knew that from the first moment I saw you.”


	16. Confessions of Intimacy

I felt as if I no longer had control over my actions as my hands tangled into the hair at the base of Sebastian’s neck, my fingers finding purchase in the black, silky locks as I pulled his mouth down to mine.   
I wasn’t sure how he would react to my bold move, but I was pleasantly surprised when his lips moulded against mine, his mouth warm and giving beneath my own. Fingers fumbling to undo the line of buttons down the front of his white dress shirt, my fingertips grazed across smooth, cool skin, moving hungrily down the stony planes of Sebastian’s chest and stomach, the need, the absolute desire, to touch, to feel human skin beneath my hands, absolutely devouring me.   
I don’t know why I was so caught off guard that Sebastian was a hell of a good kisser, but he was, undoubtedly so.   
I felt his long, slender fingers weave their way into my hair, loosened now from my strict updo, and he tilted my head back slightly, in a subtle hint of command, his tongue snaking between my parted lips, exploring every facet of my mouth, causing me to groan slightly in reaction.   
My own tongue, darting into his mouth only briefly, carefully felt the pointed tips of his canines with delicate flesh, and in response, his hold on me tightened, forcing my head back and exposing the skin of my throat, as he pulled away, only barely, our lips still brushing with every word as he murmured dangerously, “Careful, (F/N). Don’t forget you’re dealing with a demon.”   
“You don’t scare me.” I breathed out against his skin, meeting his liquid gaze, the swirling depths of his crimson irises sending waves of pleasure through my stomach.   
“Maybe I should.” He bent his head, onyx hair brushing across my chin, as he carefully ran the points of his teeth down the exposed skin of my neck, leaving behind faint, red, raised trails on the pale flesh.   
His tongue, hot, wet, slipped out to trace along the stark lines of my collarbone, and I gasped, arching my body into his, as his lips grazed across the hollow of my throat, his mouth moving against heated skin as he said softly, “I could kill you. If I lose control, that is. Are you willing to risk that?”   
He raised his head, scarlet eyes bright as they studied my face, my hands still splayed across his chest, the palms flat against the contours of his body, his skin, cool, chiseled, flawlessly pale in between my fingers.   
“Do I make you want to lose control, Sebastian?” I asked, my voice barely above a throaty whisper, my gaze never wavering from his.   
The corners of his mouth quirked, hinting at his customary smirk, his dark brows arching slightly at my bold question, respect flashing across his eyes, as he leaned toward me, hands still entangled in my hair, pressed into the bed on either side of my head.   
“My lady.” His velvet voice was dark, husky, brushing across my skin like a dangerous caress, making me shiver slightly beneath him, as his lips brushed against the shell of my ear. “You make me want to do a plethora of things I am not normally inclined to.”   
“Then do them.” I issued the challenge bravely, although my insides were quivering from anticipation, as I held his gaze strongly with my own. Pushing up slightly from the pillow, I let my chemise drop from my shoulders, baring my body to him, goosebumps jumping across my skin, suddenly revealed to the nighttime air. My eyes never wavered from his, and my voice was confident, goading slightly, as I stated firmly, “I’ve taken you for many things, Sebastian, but never for one who hesitates when he knows what he wants.”   
He blinked, slowly, lazily, red tongue coming out to slip across his lips, leaving them wet and glistening, and then he smiled, baring white teeth in the candlelight, and the action sent a pleasurable shudder of carnal reaction through my body.   
“So be it.”  
He pounced, his muscles rippling under skin in a way that reminded me all too much of a lithe jungle cat, and expertly pinned my wrists above my head, easily restrained by one of his hand’s long fingers. He was careful not to put all of his weight on me, as his body pressed against the length of mine, skin against skin, heat coursing through everything he touched.   
“Correct me if I’m wrong.” He purred, his breath washing across my face, brushing tendrils of sweat dampened hair from my forehead. “But I take you for the kind of woman that tends to dominate her partners. From start to finish.”   
His free hand, going beneath my jaw, roughly pulled my chin up so that I met his gaze, heat swirling dangerously behind his red irises, causing a reaction of something, not altogether unpleasant, in the pit of my stomach.   
“You’re correct.” I replied confidently, arching my brow proudly at him as I continued. “And I take you for the type of man who also enjoys control. In all aspects of your life.”   
He chuckled, the dark, soothing sound falling from his parted lips like water, his fingers reflexively tightening around my restrained wrists in response to my statement. He offered me an unreadable smirk, the fingers holding my chin loosening and falling away, as he trailed them carefully down the skin of my neck, my pulse throbbing wildly through the translucent flesh beneath his fingertips. “So. My lady.” He lowered his head, his lips coming to my ear, the soft feel of his mouth against the delicate skin making me shudder deliciously against his body. “Are you willing to share the control with me? Just for tonight.”   
In response, I arched my back to press flush against him, my skin hot against the chill like marble of his chest, and covered his mouth with my own.   
I was willing to let him be in charge. Just for the moment.   
My tongue slipped in between his slightly parted lips, running across the warm, wet flesh of his own, exploring his mouth, my fingers twitching in his solid hold, itching to touch, to feel, every part of his skin.   
Sebastian’s sharp, pointed canines grazed suddenly across my bottom lip, rougher, harsher, than they ever had previously, and I let out a slight whimper against his mouth at the unexpected brief pain which sent a wave of pleasure throughout my body.   
He broke away from me at the soft sound, his eyes brighter than I had ever seen them, his tongue snaking out to run across his lips, before he breathed out, “Ah. Humans are always so fragile. Usually it does nothing but annoy me. But your fragility, however...” He paused in his thoughts, releasing my wrists suddenly from his grasp, freeing my hands from their hold, as he reached down with his now free hand and grasped my thigh in his fingers, hitching my leg up and over his hip in one smooth motion, causing me to gasp. “Mmmm.” He hummed low in his throat, a deep sound of satisfaction at the reaction he had elicited from me, his lips going against the skin of my arched neck, tracing the curves of my throat and collar bone as he murmured against my body, “Your fragility is absolutely intoxicating.”   
My heart was pounding loud in my ears, the blood rushing to the surface everywhere Sebastian touched, leaving a pink trail of desire like a map across my body, showing wherever he had been.   
His fingers trailed lower, across the skin of my abdomen and over my hip bones, tracing circular patterns, as his teeth, gentler this time, grazed across my exposed shoulder.   
My own hands came up, finding purchase in the dark tendrils of hair that fell across his forehead, shadowing intense, crimson eyes that swirled with lust. And then, using my leg which was still held firmly in his grasp, draped casually over his own hip, I flipped us over to the other side of the bed, pushing loose hair out of my eyes, as I straightened, now on top, Sebastian beneath me.   
I knew, if he had wanted, he could have stopped the sudden movement. He was much stronger than me after all. But he simply arched a dark brow at me in amusement, a smirk once again settling over his lips as he watched me astride him, knees pinned tightly on either side of his body.   
“I said I’d let you have some of the control, Sebastian. Not all of it.” I said in response to his silent question, running my hands down the smooth expanse of his chest, the planes hard as stone underneath my fingers.   
“By all means.” Sebastian spoke, his tone low, deep, husky, his eyes still never leaving my face, the slight smirk still in place on his full lips. “Be my guest.”   
I leaned over him, my hair falling in a curtain around the two of us, hiding us from the outside world, my hands stilling on his abdomen, as my lips met the shell of his ear. Running first my tongue, and then my teeth across the delicate skin there, I felt his body respond beneath my own, his hands sliding up the warm skin of my back, his fingers splayed across my spine.   
“My fragility intrigues you, draws you in.” I murmured against his skin, my fingers resuming their path, going down to unbutton his pants, as I pulled back, only slightly to meet his gaze. “But I think it’s my bite that makes you stay.”   
The smirk again. The flash of scarlet eyes.   
Nails against my skin, dragging lower and lower down my back, making me shiver, my body reacting to his touch without thought. Another soft whimper was pulled from my lips without my consent, and his gaze bloodied, darkened, grew hungry, in response to the sound.   
“(F/N).” My name, falling from his slightly quirked lips, sounded different than it ever had. Black, dangerous, seductive.   
“Sebastian.” I breathed back through parted lips, not able to think of anything else, my thoughts a jumbled, hazy mess as our skin, our bodies, melded together, nothing keeping them apart any longer.   
He knew the effect he was having on me. It showed, in the gleam of his eyes, the hint of a smile upon his mouth, the way his fingers reached up to brush a strand of hair carefully out of my eyes.   
And then. That voice. Dulcet, velvet, a growl of low tones, that sent a warm wave of pleasure throughout my entire being.   
“Everything about you makes me stay.”   
And then, there were no more quips, no more conversation, no more words spoken, no more coherent thoughts.   
It was just his body and mine, tangled in sheets, sweaty, flushed skin pressed against one another, lips locked in a way that sent tingles through my limbs, not an inch of space between us.   
I had never thought I would give up an inch of my control, not to anyone, not ever again. It was too painful. I had learned my lesson.   
But in that one moment-that one moment of intense passion shared with a demon-I gave up control. And it didn’t hurt. Not this time.   
Because Sebastian, whether I liked it or not, had a way of making wrong choices, seem like the right ones.   
*****  
Wrapping the discarded blanket around my body, I slid down from the bed, steadying myself slightly against one of the posts, my knees still a little weak from what had transpired a few moments before.   
I would never admit it to the man still lying in the bed, looking almost godlike in his beauty, though he was literally the opposite of a god, but that was the best sex I’d ever had in my life. And I was no stranger to what went on in a bed.   
“So.” I said into the pregnant silence between the two of us, finally feeling steady enough on my feet to push away from the support of the pole. “I’ve never had sex with a demon before, but I’m going to assume that your kind isn’t the type to stay around and cuddle and talk about feelings afterward.”   
Crossing the room, I dug through the armoire, trying to find clean undergarments and a night gown, the blanket still clasped tightly against my chest. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt self conscious and like I needed to cover up, but there was a slight warm blush appearing on my cheeks as I felt Sebastian’s eyes follow me across the room, watching my every move.   
“You’re correct.” He finally spoke up after I had managed to find what I was looking for and shut the door of the armoire loudly in the silence. I glanced over at him as I began to dig around in my jewelry box for a hair brush.   
Shit, he was almost too pretty.   
Sitting in a casually reclined position, a pillow behind his head, familiar smirk placed on his perfect features, one slender brow raised, his eyes settled back into their natural dim crimson, pale, flawless skin of his exposed chest gleaming in the candlelight.   
When he spoke again, his tone held a hint of amusement. “I’ve never understood why humans crave intimacy, the feeling of being close to one another. Sexual interactions are pleasurable, yes, but they’re not necessary for living.”   
“Romantic.” I muttered under my breath sarcastically in response to his statement, still digging for my hairbrush. “Haven’t you ever just done it with someone simply because you were attracted to them and you wanted to? No other deeper reason?”   
I finally found what I was looking for and crossing the room to stand beside the door into the bathroom, I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed tightly over my chest, watching him, waiting for a reply to my questions.   
He turned his head slightly to look at me, his teeth flashing white against pink, swollen lips, before he said simply, matter of factually, “I’ve been amongst humans for decades, (F/N). I typically restrict intimate interactions with the opposite sex for moments when I need information or want to persuade them to do my bidding.” He lifted a bare shoulder in a slight shrug. “I’ve found many women beautiful, even in carnal ways perhaps, but as a demon, I have no need to satisfy selfish pleasures. I simply use sex as an advantage to get my way.”   
“Okay.” I drawled out, suddeny uncomfortable with the conversation, feeling awkward, instantly wondering after his admission what he had used sex with me to gain. “I feel great about myself now. Look.” I pushed open the door to the bathroom, the blush back on my cheeks, suddenly feeling as if I wanted to disappear into a hole. “I’m gonna take a bath. So, I’ll just expect that you’ll be gone when I get out.”   
Not waiting for a reply, I ducked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it momentarily to catch my breath, my hand going over my pounding heart.   
I had known from the beginning. This was merely an act of pleasure, a selfish common agreement between the two of us.   
So why did Sebastian’s casually spoken words sting so much?   
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I started the bath, the room quickly rising in temperature and the air growing hazy with steam as the hot water filled the giant tub. Adding some oil that instantly filled the room with the smell of a spring garden, I slid my body into the shimmering water, letting out a long sigh as I sank up to my shoulders in the warm, soothing embrace of the water.   
Shutting off the tap, I leaned my head back against the chilled porcelain of the side of the tub, closing my eyes, focusing on my breathing as I tried to clear my head.   
The sound of the door opening pulled me from my moping, and I sat up in surprise, water sloshing over the sides of the bath at my sudden movement.   
Sebastian, clothed once again in his perfectly made black pants, his chest however, still bare, appeared through the steam that clouded the bathroom, and I avoided his gaze as he set a fluffy towel down beside the tub.   
I waited, the room silent, not looking at him, not saying anything, and then I heard him crouch down beside the bath, and his fingers went into the warm water at the edge of my vision, swirling the oil slick of the bath oils around on the surface of the liquid in a thoughtful motion. “You didn’t let me finish.” His voice was a murmur, his tone calmly soothing.   
“What?” I looked over at him in surprise, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them where they peeked out of the water, my gaze now fully on his face.   
“I’ve always simply used the humans’ need for affection, for closeness, for sex, in my favor, to gain advantage, to ease my way.” His eyes met mine, once again scarlet, lit from behind, in the dim light of the one candle in the bathroom. His fingers stilled in the water, his lips parted softly as his gaze scanned my face, studying me in a way that made me blush under his intensity. “But I didn’t do that with you. And I’m not saying that to make you feel better, I’m telling you that because I have no idea why in the hell I did it.” He sighed, raking a hand through the long strands of coal like hair sticking to his forehead from the humidity of the bathroom, and for the first time, since I had met him, I saw confusion, uncertainty, flash briefly across his gaze. “I was with you, and I didn’t do it because I wanted something. I did it simply because I wanted you.”   
I opened my mouth, slightly stunned by his honest confession, but before I could respond, he pushed himself up from the floor, his lips in a tight line, as he glanced down at me, just once, before heading toward the door, throwing out over his shoulder, “Enjoy your bath. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”   
And then he was gone, and the bathroom suddenly felt colder without his presence, his warm, red gaze washing across my face.   
Shivering slightly, I ducked down underneath the water once more.   
I didn’t know, in that moment, whether his uttered words just now, had made me feel better, or a million times worse.


	17. Secrets of Safety

The next morning, I stirred my porridge around the bowl, over and over, again, my scone and tea untouched beside my plate.   
I had avoided Sebastian’s gaze ever since entering the room, not really sure where things stood between us after last night, and not really sure I wanted to know.   
“You usually attack your breakfast like a savage dog.” I looked up from my bowl at the sound of Ciel Phantomhive’s voice from across the table, regarding me with a brow raised, dark blue eye unreadable as he watched me. “You’re unusually reserved this morning, and I find the sudden intake of manners quite refreshing from someone who’s usually more animal than human.”   
I ignored his jibe, something I wouldn’t have done any other day when I wasn’t so distracted, so lost in my thoughts, and instead, dropped my eyes back to the untouched food before me, ever aware of Sebastian’s silent presence behind his young master, as I replied quietly, “Just a lot on my mind.”   
“No return taunt? I’m impressed.” The boy scoffed, taking a sip from his teacup delicately, still watching me with a cocky expression on his face. “Maybe being here really has taught you some manners.”   
Sebastian cleared his throat from behind the kid, and then I heard his voice, baritone, low, smooth, as he stepped forward and said calmly, “Young Lord, you said you had news of the contract we retrieved?”   
“Ah yes.” Ciel settled back into his chair, pulling out the contract we had given him the night before from the inside pocket of his suit coat, his eyes scanning the pages as he said, “I stayed up all night going over this. And I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re close, so close in fact, that I know who the boss is.”   
My head jerked up at his confident statement, my spoon going still in my bowl, and I couldn’t help the tone of skepticism in my voice as I asked incredulously, “Really? You figured all that out with just a contract of service?”   
The boy sitting across the table from me shot me a slight glare at my lack of confidence in his abilities, and then handed the contract over his shoulder to Sebastian without looking at him, saying in a slightly bored tone, “I did. And if you doubt me….” He paused, glancing up at the tall form of the butler behind him. “Sebastian, please tell the lady what seal is present upon the last page of that contract.”   
The sound of papers rifling filled the brief silence that had settled over the room, and I watched as Sebastian glanced down at the last page as directed, his gaze barely flickering downward before he responded, his tone never changing, “The seal present is that of the House of Beauxgard, young master.”   
“Son of a bitch.” I breathed, slumping back in my chair at the revelation. I glanced over at the kid, sitting, completely nonplussed, across from me, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he watched me smugly. “The family that advises the Queen herself?”   
“Indeed.” Ciel Phantomhive nodded, seeming to be lost in a thought of some kind, as he continued, eyes flickering past me and to the large wall of windows that graced one side of the dining room. “But the question is...who wants to frame them so badly that they made it this obvious?”   
“It’s most likely a ploy to get us where they want us. They knew we’d steal the contract.” I mused, mostly to myself, eyes losing focus as I processed everything we had just learned.   
“Obviously.” The boy waved an uninterested hand in my direction, as if he had come to that conclusion ages ago. “But the only way to find out who wants to frame the Queen’s advisors, and thus, find out the true boss behind this nasty business, is to play right into their trap. Make them think we believe them.”   
“And I’m going to make a wild guess here and say that you won’t be the one playing into this trap, and subsequently, into the line of danger.” I replied snarkily, regarding the face of the boy sitting across from me, as he shot me a glare, my lips curling up into a satisfied smirk at his obvious ire.   
I was back. As long as I didn’t make eye contact with the demon in the room.   
“No.” Ciel stood up from his seat, his chair scraping noisily on the floor as he dropped his used napkin onto the table. “That would be your job.”   
“Right.” I replied back, fake sweetness dripping from the single word, as the boy ignored my obvious taunt, and headed toward the door to the room.   
I watched him go, walking stick held in his hand, mop of dark hair ruffled on his head, pale skin almost sickly in the morning light. Sebastian, ever the faithful butler, followed on his heels, black suit perfectly in place, not a hair out of line, gloved hands tucked neatly behind his back.   
How in the hell did I get myself into this mess? I was working for a child, for hell’s sake. Oh, and his demon butler, no big deal.   
“Oh, and, Lady Bellamy.” I was pulled from my thoughts by the boy in question pausing in the doorway, not looking over his shoulder as he addressed me, his back to the room where I still sat, waiting. “Don’t disappoint me.”   
And with that uttered phrase, he was gone.   
Sighing, I pushed my uneaten breakfast away from me and stood, dabbing at my mouth with my napkin before I exited the dining room. Fidgeting with the long velvet gloves once again covering my hands and forearms, head down, I gasped as I ran into someone in the hallway outside of the room, stumbling as I lost my balance after colliding with the unknown person.   
Tripping over my own feet, and the long skirt of my heavy dress, a hand caught me beneath the elbow just in time, saving me from a very undignified fall right in the middle of the corridor.   
I sighed in relief, but the grateful feeling in my chest turned sour all too quickly when an all too familiar voice murmured, fingers tightening slightly around my upper arm, “You really should try to be more careful, my lady.”   
Pulling from his grip, I stepped back quickly, brushing loose strands of hair from my face and smoothing down the hem of my dress, as I cleared my throat, trying to regain some of my pride as I avoided his warm, crimson gaze, looking anywhere but at him as I stuttered out, “Sorry. Guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”   
“Hmm.” He tsked, almost in a teasing sort of disapproval, and I felt him step closer to me, my gaze dropping to his shiny black dress shoes, as he surmised, “That could get you killed if you’re not careful.”   
I finally looked up at him, my gaze snapping up to his, ever too familiar smirk darting across his lips, and before I could stop myself, I quipped back, “Good thing I’m not on duty right now then, huh?”   
“There she is.” He let a smile pull his lips back, only briefly revealing white canines, and then his gloved hand came up and found purchase beneath my chin, fingers digging into my skin slightly, making my heart beat just a little bit faster in my chest. “You weren’t your usual self at breakfast.” He regarded me, tipping his head in a curious manner, the depths of his eyes swirling scarlet in the light from the nearby windows. “Something on your mind, my lady?”   
Yeah, you.   
I shook my head, just barely, his grip still tight on either side of my jawline, and forced myself to maintain eye contact with him as I retorted, “No, I’m fine. Dandy. Everything’s great.” I swallowed hard, hoping he wouldn’t call me on my bluff, praying that he couldn’t hear how loud my heart was pounding in my chest, a direct contradiction to my carefully measured words.   
“Hmm.” He hummed, a sound low in his throat, his eyes still holding mine, and I could tell, he didn’t believe me. “Come with me.”   
“What…” I barely managed to get out, before his hand was dropping from my chin and clasping around my own, as he pulled me down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen.   
I stumbled after him, struggling to keep up with his lengthy steps, trying not to trip over the hem of my skirt as he dragged me past the kitchen and through a smaller doorway at the end of the hallway that I had never noticed before. The door shut with a click behind us, sealing us into the small room and dimming the lighting around us.   
“What the hell.” I exclaimed through harsh breaths, trying to catch my breath, as I glanced around us with annoyance.  
We were in a closet, or a small pantry. There was barely room for the two of us in the small space, the walls lined with shelves full of food and other supplies, and I found my back pressed up against a shelf that held jars of what appeared to be small fish, regarding me with beady eyes that stared back at me glassily.   
Sebastian’s body was flush against my own due to the lack of space, his hands resting casually on either side of my head, long fingertips gripping the edge of one of the shelves, eyes dark in the dim light, regarding me with a slightly dangerous look, lips curled just barely into the start of a smirk.   
Feeling myself flush, I felt irritation rise in my stomach, and I huffed angrily into the space between us as I snapped out, feeling suddenly flustered and once again avoiding his gaze, “Okay, seriously? There’s a jar of dead fish digging into my back, and I’m pretty sure a carrot just went up my ass. So, why are we here?”   
He chuckled, leaning into me a bit, his nose going into my hair, his fingers digging into the shelves above my head, and when he spoke, his warm breath washed my skin, his voice rich, like dark chocolate, with a slightly bitter edge, “You shouldn’t lie to a demon, (F/N).”   
He took in a deep breath through his nose, as if he was savoring my scent, and I shivered slightly, the small room suddenly feeling hotter than before, as I stumbled slightly over my protest, “I wasn’t lying.”   
“And yet,” He pulled back slightly, looking down at me, coal black hair falling over his brow, crimson eyes stark against the shadows surrounding us, “You weren’t yourself this morning. Why?”   
I huffed in annoyance once again, crossing my arms over my chest in what little space I had, trying to distance him from me, if only so that his balmy breath on my skin wouldn’t scramble my thoughts anymore than it already had. “Why do you care? Aren’t demons supposed to be allergic to sympathy or something?”   
He laughed again, a low, dark sound under his breath, a sound that sent another shiver down my spine, but not a shiver a fear, a shiver of desire, of pleasant feelings buried deeply from last night.   
“You’re right, I don’t care.” His eyes flashed and I felt a pang in my chest at his uttered words, said so matter of factly, before he continued, “Or I shouldn’t.” His voice was softer slightly, or maybe it was my imagination. I held my breath as he dropped one of his hands to my face, a finger sliding down the arch of my cheekbone as he murmured, “If I did anything last night that upset you….”   
I couldn’t handle this. He was too close. And he was making it so hard to think, with the swirling depths of his eyes, and his soft touch on my skin, and his velvet voice.   
“What? No!” I blurted out, waving my hands in front of me as if what he was saying was ludicrous. “Look, Sebastian, it was purely a matter of pleasure, of convenience. I needed to let off some steam, and you were willing to let me work out my frustrations on you.” That sounded stupid, and I realized it as soon as the words left my mouth, but I was babbling now, the blush heating on my cheeks, and I couldn’t stop myself. “We are one hundred percent on the same page. No feelings, no weirdness, no expectations, it’s all good. You don’t need to say anything.”   
I stopped the tirade of words falling from my mouth, trying to catch my breath, dropping my hands back to my sides limply as I bit my lip between my bottom teeth to shut myself up, avoiding Sebastian’s gaze, which I could still feel, like fire, on my reddened cheeks.   
“(F/N.)”   
His long fingers curled underneath my chin again, forcing me to look back up at him, and when I did, he ran a thumb across my bottom lip, releasing it from the hold of my teeth, as he raised a slender brow at me, a look almost passing for amusement crossing his features. He leaned toward me, so close this time, that I could feel each of his exhales brush across my parted lips, as he thumbed the delicate skin there, tracing a pattern I couldn’t quite place, before he murmured, scarlet gaze flickering up to mine once more, “I wasn’t going to say anything.”   
I swallowed hard, my blood rushing in my ears, my heart pounding wildly against my ribcage, as his eyes dropped down to my lips, his thumb stilling against my mouth, the fabric of his gloved finger soft against my lips.   
His tongue slipped out from between his own lips, leisurely swiping across the reddened skin, sharp teeth flashing white against the scarlet, and I felt my own lips part as if of their own accord underneath the pad of his thumb in response.   
Red eyes languidly perused my face, and the lips, his lips, the lips I wanted so badly on my own at that moment, slipped into the custom expression, tilting upward into his smirk, as he breathed against my skin, closer still than before, “What do you want?”   
“You.” I declared, surprised with how steady my voice was, considering that his presence, his body pressed against my own, had turned my insides into a quivering mess.   
His brow inched a bit higher at my statement, but that smirk, that damned smirk, was still placed firmly on his lips, and when he spoke, his voice was taunting, dangerous, “I’ve taken you for many things, my lady, but never for one who hesitates when she knows what she wants.”   
My words, repeated back to me in Sebastian’s velvet tones, echoed in my head for the briefest of moments, and then, without any more thinking, my body closed the sliver of a gap between us, and my mouth was on his, our lips meshed together, my arms going around his neck, tongue slipping out to taste him, the sharp points of his canines sending a jolt through my body as they connected with my bottom lip.   
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it ended.   
Sebastian pulled back, and my hands dropped from his neck, back to their place at my sides, and I was once again aware of the jar of fish digging into the small of my back, bringing me back to reality, as I struggled to catch my breath, locked in the small space of the pantry with a perfectly unruffled demon occupying the space across from me.   
Sebastian’s hand went to the doorknob, and it opened with a soft click, letting in the sunlight from the hallway, and I watched, as he stood there, beautiful, perfect, otherworldly, silhouetted against the sun for a moment, before I heard his voice say, “I’ll see you tonight, my lady.” He turned to leave, but then thought better of it, turning back to say over his shoulder, a slight hint of something I couldn’t quite place in his voice, “You really should be more careful.”   
And before I could respond, he was gone, and I was left, alone, with the dead fish and the carrots, still trying to catch my breath.


	18. Dangerous gifts

Standing in front of the full length mirror in my room that evening, I scanned my outfit with critical eyes, making sure I had everything I needed for the mission that lay ahead. 

I wore a long, dark overcoat, cinched in tightly at the waist, flowing down almost to my ankles, the split up the front revealing a pair of black leggings that hugged my calves as if they were part of my skin. Sure, it wasn’t a dress, and normally, I would worry about looking the part of a lady, but tonight, Sebastian and I were under the cover of darkness, and that meant I could go for durability rather than propriety. 

Pushing a few strands of errant hair back into their place, I patted my hips, making sure I had my hidden daggers, and then let my hand slip down to my right thigh, where another knife was sheathed, flush against my skin. Tugging at the velvet gloves that covered my forearms, I nodded to myself in the mirror, taking in a deep breath. 

I was ready. 

The sound of the door to my room opening caused me to startle slightly, and I whirled around to face the intruder, only to see Mey Rin’s eyes widen behind her coke bottle glasses, as she let out a quiet shriek at my sudden movement, her hands going up to cover her breast as she said breathlessly, with a slight curtsy, “Forgive me, my lady! I didn’t mean to scare you, yes!” 

“It’s fine, Mey Rin.” I answered back, crossing the room to sit down on the bed, so that I could lace up the black combat boots around my ankles in relative comfort. I glanced over at her, where she still stood beside the door, one eyebrow raised as I hinted, “Did you need something?” 

“Oh, right, yes!” She jumped into action at my question, hurrying across the room to place something on the bed beside me, before she offered another apologetic curtsy in my direction. “Sebastian asked me to bring this to you, yes! Please let me know if you need anything else!” 

And with that she hurried from the room, the door shutting with a loud and final click behind her. 

Sighing, I straightened from fastening my boots, and glanced to the object that Mey Rin had left on the bed beside me, nestled in the fabric of the silk comforter. 

It was a box at first glance, nondescript, tied with a scarlet ribbon, the color of Sebastian’s eyes, swirling in darkness, and there was a folded piece of parchment tucked beneath the length of ribbon, my name written in Sebastian’s curling script across the front. 

Reaching for the box, I slid the ribbon carefully to the side, tucking it into the drawer of my nightstand, before I picked up the parchment, unfolding it slowly, my eyes scanning the two words Sebastian had written so neatly inside. 

For tonight. 

Curiosity piqued, I removed the lid from the box and gasped slightly to myself at the sight inside. 

Cradled amongst layers of smooth fabric, was a dagger, a dagger like nothing I had ever seen before. 

It’s sharp, deadly blade, gleaming in the candlelight, was engraved with swirling patterns of leaves and vines and blossoming flowers of nightshade, etched delicately into the glistening steel. The hilt, not to be outmatched, was just as ornate as the blade-fiery flames curling around the curve of the handle, plumes of wavy smoke softening the edges, as they danced amongst the flames. 

It was beautiful. 

Picking up the gift blade between cautious fingers, I twirled it around my hand a few times, testing the weight and the dexterity. Once again, it was perfect. 

Ceasing the flashing movement of the blade between my fingers, I reached for the dagger that was sheathed on my leg, brushing the skirt of the overcoat aside, as I pulled the older, plain blade from its home against my thigh. Slipping the previous dagger onto the nightstand, I carefully slid the new blade into its place, and I hated to admit it, but it felt good, like it had always belonged there, its weight heavy and cool against my skin through the thin fabric of the leggings. 

Standing up abruptly, I tucked the box and parchment note into the drawer where I had placed the ribbon, and rubbed my temples briefly after straightening, taking in a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the burning presence of Sebastian’s gift beneath my cloak. 

Damn it. Whether he knew it or not, he was making it awfully hard for me to keep feelings out of this “relationship.” 

And the scariest part, the part I didn’t want to admit to even myself, was that honestly, I didn’t mind one bit. 

****

“Get out.” 

I rolled my eyes, the motion hidden beneath the darkness the hood of my cloak afforded, but not minding one bit if the child sitting across from me saw the annoyed gesture, as I reached for the door handle of the carriage, saying sarcastically under my breath as I did so, “Yes, sir.” 

Stepping into the black, chilly air of the night that surrounded the carriage, my breath frosting in the air almost instantly, I glanced back up at the boy, who was regarding Sebastian and I cooly from the window above our heads. “Once you’re finished, meet me back here. I’ll have my part done well before you two have managed yours.”

Another eyeroll, another pang of annoyance coursing through my stomach at his tone of condescension. 

“Very good, young master.” Sebastian purred, nonplussed, from beside me, as he offered Ciel Phantomhive a deep bow. 

With another warning glance from the kid staring down at the two of us, the carriage jolted forward, clattering over the cobblestones of the large drive, and disappeared into the inky blackness of the night. 

“He’s fun.” I quipped sourly, as I kept step with Sebastian, following the cobblestone path around the corner to reveal a large mansion, windows lit, looming out of the shadows of the night around us. 

I felt Sebastian’s slightly amused gaze fall on my pinched, irritated features, and when I glanced over at him, ready to defend my point of view, he had one brow raised, regarding me with curiosity as he said simply, “You two are very much alike.” 

“What?!” I stuttered out, coming to a sudden stop before we reached the door we were headed toward. I had expected him to say many things in that moment, but I certainly hadn’t expected that. “Ciel Phantomhive and I could not be more different!” 

Sebastian paused, noting that I was no longer beside him, and glanced over his shoulder at me, crimson eyes bright in the shadows of the house towering over us, amusement still plainly on his features, as his lips quirked upward into a slight smirk. “My lady, I mean no offense. But both you and the young master have attracted the rather intense and unpleasant attention of a demon. I would say that makes you far more alike than you two would care to admit.” 

I was speechless, watching as he continued onward to the front stoop of the mansion, as simply as if he had not just dropped a bomb on me in that very moment. Shaking my head forcefully to stop his words, which made me shiver in disgust, from bouncing around my head, I hurried after him, coming once again to his side just as he reached the front porch. 

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye-the perfectly flawless pale skin, the sharp angle of his jaw and cheekbones, softened only slightly by dark locks falling across his forehead, casting his eyes, his swirling, scarlet, captivating eyes, into shadow beneath slender, black brows. 

Suddenly, the dagger against my thigh was pressing into my skin, heavier than before, almost burning, but in a pleasant way, through the material of my leggings to brand the patterns of flames and vines and nightshade into my flesh. 

“Speaking of which.” I said, clearing my throat, not looking at him anymore, as he paused in raising his fist to knock, his gaze on my face, the hint of curiosity there once again. I swallowed, my fingers going down to unwittingly to fiddle with the dagger, sheathed and hidden beneath the layer of my cloak. “Thank you. For your gift.” 

Understanding flashed across his face, and his gaze, burning brighter than before, flickered down to where my fingers still played with the hilt of the dagger beneath the layer of fabric, his lips turning upward, just barely, in the beginning hints of another smirk, as he lowered his fist and turned to me, head cocked slightly as he regarded me, “You liked it then?” 

I nodded, forcing myself to stop touching the said gift and fold my hands in front of my body, fingers clenched together, as I looked up to meet his gaze, biting my lower lip between nervous teeth as I asked hesitantly, “Why?” 

His brows raised simultaneously at my question, although by the look on his face, I knew he understood what I was asking in that one, tremulous word. Why had he given me a gift? Why that particular dagger, which looked as if it had been made only for me and no one else? Why was he doing this? Why, why, why?

“Because,” He murmured, stepping closer to me, his hand going up to my face, his thumb swiping across my bottom lip to gently release it from the grip of my bottom teeth, his crimson eyes burning into my own. “Not unlike its owner, I believe that dagger will look even more captivating when its bathed in a layer of scarlet.” 

My breath caught in my chest at his words, and his fingers, still lingering on my cheekbone, hovered there for another moment, as if he didn’t want to break contact between us, although that could have been my imagination. And then, he was pulling away, and the spell over the two of us was abruptly broken, as he raised his fist once more, and pounded loudly on the mansion door. 

We were greeted by a trimly dressed butler when the door opened, who welcomed us inside with a polite half bow, although, as we stepped into the warmth of the large foyer, I couldn’t help but think that no other butler compared to the demon disguised as a man beside me. 

Leading us down a long corridor, we followed the man silently, the only sound the tap of our shoes on the wooden floors beneath our feet, and the swish of my long, overcoat brushing against the wall as we walked. 

When the man silently showed us into a study, brightly lit by dozens of candles, the flickering flames creating distorted shadows on the walls of burnished wood, the titles of the hundreds of books on shelves barely readable in the shifting light, we were greeted gracefully by none other than Lord Phillip Beauxgard himself. 

“Please, have a seat, make yourselves comfortable.” The imposing man behind the desk, arms folded neatly in front of him, motioned with a wave of his hand to the chairs before him, mouth pulled up into a polite smile. 

I sat down beside Sebastian, pressing my hands together carefully in my lap, keeping my expression neutral as I regarded the man sitting across from us, watching us intently, his blue eyes shining in the candlelight. 

Lord Beauxgard was tall, widely built, and his rugged features were adorned with dark, bushy eyebrows, and a well trimmed mustache that hugged his upper lip. His glacier blue eyes were astute, seeing everything, and the top of his head was covered with a thinning layer of blonde hair, swept and gelled to the side, not a single strand out of place. 

He looked exactly how I had expected the head of the Queen’s advising family to appear. Stern, formidable, and shady as all hell. 

“My lord.” Sebastian ducked his head in respect to the man sitting across the desk, his lips pressed into a polite line. “Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice.” 

“The pleasure is mine.” The man waved away Sebastian’s gratitude with a flippant flick of his hand, a smile still clinging to the edges of his wide mouth. “Anything for Ciel Phantomhive. That little guard dog makes my whole life, and the Queen’s, a hell of a lot easier.” 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sebastian’s lips twitch, just marginally, at Lord Beauxgard’s description of his master, before his face was once again set in stone, as he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “Thank you again, my lord.” Pulling the contract out, he slid it across the desk to the man, gloved fingers still on the intended page, as he said, “We needed you to look at something for us, something that doesn’t seem quite right.”   
Lord Beauxgard slid a pair of reading glasses onto his nose and squinted his eyes slightly, his gaze scanning the contract laid out before him, very obviously marked with the seal of his own house. “And just what am I looking at here?” 

“That, sir, is a contract to distribute and sell the drugs that have been plaguing London for the last several months. Drugs that are being sold under the Funtom logo, I might add.” Sebastian said cooly, sitting back in his chair, his molten gaze never leaving the form of the man before him. 

Lord Beauxgard chuckled, sitting back as well, removing the glasses from his face as he pushed the contract back toward Sebastian, a smug smile on his face as he said nonchalantly, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re referring to.”   
“Bullshit.” 

The man looked over at me, slight surprise alight in his eyes, quickly replaced by hidden malice, as he offered me a twisted smile, his fingers steepled at his chin, as he said, still addressing Sebastian, but his gaze never wavering from mine, “Well, your lady companion seems to have quite a mouth. Is she always so fiery?” 

“Indisputably.” Sebastian replied calmly, his own eyes still locked onto Lord Beauxgard’s. “And there’s no need to talk about her like she’s not here, my “lady companion” is quite capable of speaking for herself.” 

A small blossom of warmth bloomed in my chest at Sebastian’s validating words, yet it was quickly squashed out of existence by the harsh sound of another chuckle being released from the Lord Beauxgard’s lips, his eyes going slightly hard, as he looked between the two of us, “Very well, then. Then neither of you will mind if I get straight to the point and bluntly ask what your real purpose for being here is.” 

“Not at all.” I answered snidely, Sebastian shooting me a knowing look from the corner of his eye, as I addressed the man sitting smugly across from us. “We want to know why you, the family of advisors to the queen herself, have gotten involved in the nasty business of drug trading.” My eyes bore into the blue depths of his own, as I leaned forward slightly, my voice taking on a dangerous edge, “To put it more simply, my lord, why the hell is your seal on that contract?” 

“Ah.” Lord Beauxgard sighed in disappointment, leaning back in his chair, eyes glinting with twisted amusement. “Yes. That is a tricky question. One that might be better answered by my superior.” 

I opened my mouth to call him on his bullshit once again, my fingers tensing around the arms of the chair as this stupid game of cat and mouse dragged on longer than necessary, but the sound of the study door clicking open behind us drew my attention. 

Glancing over my shoulder, expecting to see the butler, or maybe a messenger, I couldn’t help it as my mouth gaped open, and at the sight of the person, the one person I had never suspected, before me, all I could manage to breathe out was one horrified, gasping word beneath my breath, “Impossible.” 

The flash of teeth, a sinister smile, dark eyes swirling with unnamed, dangerous emotions in the candlelight, and then, the lilting, familiar voice, dripping with venom and unshed revenge. 

“Hello, (F/N). Miss me?”


	19. Unexpected Visitors

“You bitch.”   
Those were the first words that left my mouth before I could stop them, anger instantly beginning to swirl hotly in my stomach at the sight of her, fingers digging into the material of my cloak so that my knuckles turned white.   
“Oh, come now. Is that any way to greet a friend who just came back from the dead?” Clary faked a look of slight disappointment, as she crossed the room to stand behind Lord Beauxgard, hands moving to rest on his shoulders, before her lips pulled back to reveal her teeth in a cocky looking grin, her gaze flickering between Sebastian and I. “I’m surprised. It took you longer to get here than I had first imagined. Were my puzzles too difficult for you?”  
I shifted in my seat, every muscle coiled, ready to attack the woman in front of me, her face bathed in smug pleasure, and my hand dropped down to my thigh, almost unbidden, to finger the dagger that as hidden there.   
Sebastian, who must have noticed the slight movement from the corner of his eye, or rather, probably felt the hostile, impatient energy rolling off of me in waves, rested a hand on my arm, his gloved fingers going around my wrist in a limp hold, as if to tell me to wait, before he offered Clary a hint of a smile, bowing his head politely as he said, voice calm, “I will admit, my lady, your puzzles were quite...challenging.”   
Clary, releasing her hold on the man in front of her, clapped her hands together almost gleefully, before saying lightly, “High praise indeed, coming from one such as you, Sebastian.”   
“Enough chitchat.” I growled out, annoyed as hell with the flippant attitude Clary was presenting. I glared at her darkly, the feel of Sebastian’s grip growing heavier on my skin as a precaution, but I didn’t move, as I said through clenched teeth, “I watched Sebastian snap your neck. How did you survive?”   
“Ah.” Clary smiled at me once again, her lips pink against pale skin, long, blonde hair tumbling around her face, almost effervescent in the moonlight coming in through the window behind her. “You see, that was a simple trick of smoke and mirrors, my dear (F/N).” Her fingers fluttered over the collar of Lord Beauxgard’s shirt, fixing the lapel, as he remained, silently obedient, sitting, unmoving, before her small form. “Just, as now, this is not the real Lord Beauxgard you see before you.” At the slight look of surprise that flashed across my face, she laughed, a light, tinkling sound, before waving a hand toward the door. “I killed the real man weeks ago. He was one of the first. Like I said, smoke and mirrors.” She sung out in a teasing voice once again, before tapping the man at the desk on the shoulder, and when she spoke again, her voice was commanding, cold, “Get out. Leave us.”   
Without a word, the large man stood from the desk and exiting the room on quiet step.   
When he was gone, Clary sighed, a soft, feminine sort of sound, that belied her true nature, and sank into the large chair behind the desk, delicately crossing one leg over the other as her gaze once again fell to Sebastian and I. “Now. I believe you have questions for me.”   
“Sebastian….” I muttered under my breath, my fingers, still held firmly in his grip, itching to reach for the ornamental dagger, pressed against my thigh, that he had given me that morning.   
“Not yet.” He returned firmly, his lips barely moving, his eyes never leaving the face of the woman sitting across from us.   
I followed his gaze, and noted something, almost like surprise and then realization, cross Clary’s delicate features as she watched the two of us, before she cleared her throat and motioned to us, one hand palm up, as if noting that she was still waiting for our questions.   
“Tell me, my lady.” Sebastian said, his voice soothing, his words not missing a beat. “What led you to the drug business in the first place? And why Funtom?”   
Clary scoffed. “Please, such boring questions.” She waved her extended hand flippantly and rolled her eyes. “I’m from the underworld of London, the other side of the coin, the thing that you lords and ladies,” She spit out the word between her teeth, as if it were a curse, “Deem not appropriate to talk about. As to why I became involved in drug trade, the answer is simple.” She looked bored, carefully observing the nails on her hand as she talked. “I wanted the rest of London to be in the same squalor as those of us who live in the shadows. I wanted them craving my drugs so badly, that they were willing to debase themselves, like the pigs they are, at my feet, wallowing in mud and shit as they begged me to give them more, more.”   
She paused, and I swallowed some of the hatred in my throat, just enough, to grind out, “And why Funtom? If you really wanted them to throw themselves at your feet, praise you as some sort of God, then why did you hide behind the Phantomhive Company Logo?”   
“Ah, (F/N).” Clary smirked at me, pushing herself up from behind the desk, palms flattened on the wooden surface, as she leaned toward me, eyes sparking with something akin to amusement. “That’s where it gets fun, you see. Because if I could take down London’s bureaucracy, take them to their knees, make them see things from our level, that was one thing. But if I could manage to take down the Queen’s own Guard Dog in the process, well.” She held out her hands, fingers splayed, as if it were too obvious. “That would just be the cherry on the cake.”   
I felt Sebastian stiffen slightly, almost unnoticeably, beside me, at the mention of Ciel, and this time, it was me who rested gloved fingers on his forearm, the simple touch telling him to wait, to bide our time, for the right opportunity.   
“Speaking of which.” Clary walked around the desk, headed towards the door to the study, as she said casually over her shoulder, “I have a present for the two of you. I think you’ll enjoy the little show I’ve put together.” She paused at the doorway when we hadn’t made a move to follow her, flicking her fingers in our direction as she said goodnaturedly, “Well, come on then. Follow me. I’d really rather you do this on your own, because I’d hate to ruin a perfectly good party by forcing my men to manhandle you.”   
She flashed us a dangerous looking grin, and when it was clear that she wasn’t leaving the room without us, I let out a sigh, standing up from my chair, as Sebastian followed suit beside me.   
As we trailed behind the small, petite figure of Clary, the only light the warm flickering from the candle she carried, through the winding darkened hallways of the Beauxgard Mansion, my apprehension grew stronger with each step.   
Glancing at the tall, dark figure of Sebastian, perfectly in step beside me, I murmured softly, so only he could hear, the words drowned beneath the sound of our footsteps, “Sebastian, we can’t trust her.”   
“It would seem that way.” He replied, his own voice low and dark, his words like velvet, weaving through the silent, stale air that surrounded us. “However.” He glanced over at me, his customary smirk tilting the corners of his lips, as his eyes flashed, brightly crimson, in the dim lighting of the hallway. “I believe we have no better option than to play along for now.”   
I sighed, knowing he was right, and gave him a curt nod, before letting my hand drop, unseen, to my thigh, my fingers stroking the dagger hidden their in a comforting and repetitive motion, as we continued to follow, silently, behind Clary.   
Soon, our journey came to an end, as Clary paused outside a set of large, wooden doors, her hand pressed to the entrance, as she turned to look at us over her shoulder, her face hidden in the flickering shadows created by the candle held in her hand. “Here we are. I’ve prepared this little party especially for you. Please.” She pushed open the door, which creaked on its hinges, and light spilled into the darkened corridor from the room beyond, illuminating her features, a slight smile on her lips, as she waved us to enter the room before her.   
I knew, I knew, deep in my gut, that whatever was waiting on the other side of that door for us, was a trap.   
But I also knew, deep down, that if we didn’t enter that room, if we didn’t play along with Clary’s game to the very last moment, that many more lives than our own would ultimately be in danger.   
And so, without allowing myself another thought, I stepped through the doorway, and into the brightly lit room beyond.   
Squinting slightly, letting my eyes adjust to the brightness, the walls holding hundreds of lit candles in shimmering bronze sconces, I glanced around the large room, my footsteps echoing on the elaborate marble floor beneath my muddy boots.   
It was a ballroom, ornately decorated, beautiful, in its day, and I could almost imagine it filled with lords and ladies, dressed in their best suits and dresses, spinning around the marvelous room with smiles and laughter, the musicians playing merrily from the far corner, the sound of champagne glasses clinking above the low hum of conversation echoing off the walls.   
But, instead of merry conversation and lively dancing, their was silence, and ghostly echoes, and then, the sound of Clary’s lilting voice, calling out into the deadened air, “Well. Tell me then. Would you like my little gift?”   
I glanced in her direction, a gaping, sinister grin lighting up her features, as she twirled dramatically into the ballroom, dress twisting around her legs, arms held out wide at her sides, and then, from the other side of the room, another set of doors opened, hinges once again creaking loudly, echoing around the empty room, and two men appeared, a smaller figure held up between their hulking frames, as they dragged their prisoner into the light.   
“Shit.” I breathed out, all breath suddenly leaving my body, at the sight now presented before us, Clary still grinning happily, watching our every move and reactions with glee.   
Ciel Phantomhive was held up by his forearms between the two men, their meaty fists tight around his slender appendages. He was effectively bound and gagged, dark hair tousled and falling over his forehead messily into his eyes, and his one, blue eye, the one not hidden behind the patch, was burning with something akin to rage, as he was dragged into the room, stumbling over his own feet.   
“Well?” Clary stepped in front of us, blocking our view for a minute of the boy, held captive across the vast expanse of empty dance floor. She cocked her head innocently, like a bird, and a dainty smile crossed her lips, as she regarded the two of us sweetly. “Do you like my present then?”   
“I swear, I’ll kill you right now, you simpering, conniving, bitch.” I hissed between tightly clenched teeth, taking a menacing step toward her, and this time, Sebastian didn’t try to stop me.   
“Ah, ah, ah.” She chided, holding her ground, as her lips twisted into a darkly amused smile, waving her finger at me, as if she were scolding a misbehaving child. “I’d rethink that line of thought for now, (F/N).” She clapped her hands once again, her eyes lighting up with sudden excitement. “At least hold off on killing me until you’ve seen my second surprise. I think you’ll enjoy it.”   
Before I had time to think about what she had just said, or react to her words, the floor beneath Sebastian and I’s feet trembled, and the marble tiles began to split neatly along their segments, causing me to lose my footing and stumble forward with the sudden movement, barely avoiding the gaping holes that were begin to take shape around us.   
“(F/N), look out!”   
It was Sebastian’s voice, and I barely registered the edge of panic lacing his alarmed words, before hands connected with my lower back, shoving me forward and away from the crumbling floor beneath our feet.   
I tumbled forward, managing to roll into myself, protecting my body from connecting too harshly with the tile floor, although I felt my hip bite into the cold, unforgiving surface as I landed, instantly starting to ache, as I came to a stop several feet away from where I had originally been standing.   
Catching my breath, palms pressed into the tiles beneath my body, chest heaving, I realized, with a start, that the trembling had ceased. The floor was no longer rumbling beneath me any longer, and all that remained was dust, and deadly silence.   
And then, there was clapping.   
Starting out slow and rhythmic, and then growing into a frenzied, fast paced beat, I raised my head, meeting the harsh, chilled gaze of Clary’s ice blue eyes, only inches from my face, as she knelt in front of me, a slightly manic smile growing larger on her lips as I watched.   
“Interesting.” She hummed out happily beneath her breath, eyes never leaving my flushed face. “Interesting indeed.”   
I watched her, watching me, with sudden fascination, for a brief moment longer, my every breath still clawing its way out of my throat, and then, suddenly, it was hitting me like a ton of bricks, and I was scrabbling to my feet, maneuvering around her still kneeling form, as his name was torn from my lips, panic bleeding through every syllable.   
“Sebastian!”   
I stumbled forward a few steps, my hip protesting the movement, but my feet stopped their forward movement of their own accord, as I was faced with the sudden, brutal, stark scene before me, the instant taste of bile filling my mouth, threatening to choke off my breathing.   
Sebastian was where I had left him, the floor crumbled to nothing beneath his once shiny, black dress shoes, his usually perfectly trimmed suit now covered in dust and debri, and holding him up, several inches from the destroyed floor, were long, glistening iron spikes, criss crossing his body, piercing through first, one foot, and then the opposite hand, forming a crudely shaped X across his chest.   
The spikes were shoved perfectly through his palms, directly through the center of his white gloves, which were now quickly turning crimson before my eyes, as his blood soaked through the normally pristine material.   
I knew, I knew, through my muted and fuzzied thoughts, that he didn’t need that blood, that it was merely a show, to make his human disguise more plausible, but as I stood there, staring at him, mouth gaping, pupils blown wide with shock, as the blood, his blood, began to slide down the stakes and pool onto the marble at his feet, I felt something inside of me begin to crumble.   
The scarlet, violent thread, which had lashed us together from the moment I had signed that contract, trembled with each drop of blood that met the floor, sending vibrations throughout my whole body as if I could physically feel the stakes piercing my own skin.   
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Clary’s voice, subdued with something almost akin to reverence, sounded in my ear, her warm breath balmy as it washed across my skin. “Just like Christ was crucified hundreds of centuries ago by the nonbelievers, I too, have made my mark on history. For I,” she paused, licking her lips in a predatory manner, eyes alight as she stared at the immobile Sebastian, “have crucified a demon.”   
I stood there, dumb, staring at Sebastian, and it wasn’t until the demon butler himself, his face expressionless, gaze as intensely calm as always, let my name fall from his lips, that I snapped out of the trance that had overcome my entire body.   
“(F/N).” I snapped my eyes up to his face, and was relieved, slightly, when there were no signs of pain on his features-no crease of the smooth skin between his eyes, no grimace pulling his lips back from his teeth, no gasping breaths sucked in between clenched jaws.   
“(F/N).” He repeated, sternly this time, as if he could sense that I was losing myself again, and my gaze instantly was back on his own, his eyes swirling in the candlelight, the crimson depths reflecting the same color as the pools of blood growing ever larger at his feet. His features gentled, a barely discernible switch of expression, and then, his lips thinned into a firm line, as he stated firmly, “You need to move away from Clary. Now.”   
“Wh…” I began to ask him what he was talking about, when something solid crashed into the backs of my knees, causing my legs to buckle beneath me, as I let out a sharp, surprised cry, going down hard on the marble floor, my knees instantly smarting from the harsh contact.   
Instantly, as soon as I was downed, large hands were wrapping around my wrists, yanking them behind my back and holding them in place, as I desperately struggled to free myself.   
Glancing up through loose strands of hair that had fallen into my eyes, I noted that a brutish man, matching the two who were holding Ciel prisoner, was standing behind me, keeping me down on my knees as he forced my hands to stay behind my back.   
I was no match for his strength, or his size. There was no purpose in struggling.   
“This will be so much easier if you’re already on your knees, darling (F/N).” Clary purred, as she leaned down, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ear, as I glared daggers at her from my position at her feet. Grinning brightly at me, she clapped her hands together once again, and exclaimed excitedly to the room as she straightened, “Now. The fun can really begin.”


	20. The Lies of a Demon

I watched, anger boiling in the pit of my stomach, as Clary casually walked over to where Sebastian was still held, immobile, by the iron spikes, and reaching up, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable, ran a finger down the pale skin of his cheek, as she said softly, “Funny, isn’t it? How iron, one of the most basic, common elements of this world, can render one of the most powerful dark beings completely powerless?” Her lips curled into a sadistic smile, as her hand dropped from Sebastian’s face. “Also funny, is how, just like my previous example, I, a common, underworld London waif, can bring the most powerful nobility of London to their knees at my feet.”   
“Can we cut the shit and get on with this?” I growled out between clenched teeth, struggling again against the hands that held me on the ground, and in turn, receiving a sharp knee to the back, which left me slightly winded as I crumpled forward, glancing up at Clary as I gasped out, breathlessly, around the pain in my lower back, “Enough theatrics, Clary. What are you going to do with us?”   
“Ahhh (F/N).” Clary sighed, almost as if she were disappointed in me, as her hand sank beneath the fabric of her dress, reemerging with a wicked looking dagger held casually between her fingers. She raised the blade and inspected it boredly, as she drawled patiently, “You always were one to get right to the point and spoil my fun.”   
She spun on her heel, stalking back toward me, and crouching down in front of me, fingers going roughly around my chin, as she wrenched my gaze up to meet hers, her eyes dark, she grinned, flashing teeth in my direction, as she traced the line of my cheekbone with the tip of the dagger. “Let’s begin then, if that’s what you so desperately want.”   
Standing, she flicked her fingers to the man who held me, almost in a bored manner, as she commanded, “Take off her gloves.”   
I struggled, but it was no use, as the man jerked me to my feet and pulled the long, velvet gloves from my arms, my skin prickling with goosebumps as it was suddenly bared to the chilly air fo the ballroom. Shoving me forward, the man followed Clary as her steps once again brought her to stand in front of the incapacitated Sebastian, and turning, her smile still smug on her lips, she pointed at me with the knife, as she said, her voice fakely saccharine, “Now. Since you wanted to play so badly, we’re going to engage in a little game.” She flicked the knife over her shoulder without looking, the point now directed at Sebastian. “Touch him.”   
Triumph rose in my stomach at her words, and I stood a little straighter, as the man once again pushed me forward, closing the distance between Sebastian and I, so I was standing beside Clary, and directly in front of the demon, close enough to reach out and touch him.   
She must not know. She couldn’t know, that my powers had no effect on demons whatsoever.   
“It won’t work.” I glared at her, my voice laced with smugness, as the man released his hold on my hands, allowing me to stand freely before Clary, arms and hands bared. “It doesn’t work on demons.”   
“Ah ah ah.” Clary waved the knife at me, surprise flashing across her face, and her voice chiding, as if I were a student who didn’t know something they were supposed to. “It doesn’t work when he has control of his powers.” Her brow raised, and her mouth opened wide, in faked shock, as she regarded the surprise that flashed across my own face at her words. “Oh, did you not know? This is rich.” She flashed me a smirk, full lips pulling upward, as she glanced up to Sebastian and then back to me. “Did your little demon not tell you that, (F/N)?” She stalked around me, looking me up and down, as I stood, motionless, disbelief coursing through me. “You can touch him, if he allows it. It’s simply more smoke and mirrors. The entire time he allows you to touch him, he has to use his powers as a wall, to keep you from incinerating him, to keep you at a distance. It’s not an easy task. It takes great concentration. And now, now that I have rendered those powers useless….” She paused, coming to stand in front of me, nose almost touching my own, voice dropping dangerously, “You. Can. Burn. Him.”   
Each word pummeled my heart like a ten stone brick as it dropped from her curved lips with such satisfaction, and suddenly, my breath was catching in my throat, and the man’s hands were once again shoving me forward, and Clary was reaching for my wrist, her long fingers cold as they wrapped around my forearm, and she’s raising, slowly, my exposed hand toward Sebastian’s pale, glimmering flesh, and suddenly, I am fighting, pulling against her, my voice torn from my throat as I started to scream.   
“You bitch! Stop! I won’t touch him! You’ll have to kill me first!” I writhed in the man’s grip, but I couldn’t break free of Clary’s iron hold on my arm, and as I desperately curled my fingers into my palm, trying to lengthen the ever decreasing distance between my fingers and Sebastian’s skin, I felt as if I was choking on everything I had just learned.   
Sebastian let me touch him. And he wasn’t safe from me, he never had been. He had lied. He had used copious amounts of will and power to keep himself safe from me, simply so that I could experience the feel of human skin beneath my fingertips. Why would he do that?   
Why? Why? Why?   
“(F/N).”   
I stopped my frenzied, useless movements instantly at the sound of his voice, low, velvet, calm, as he said my name, and flicking my gaze up to his, his pupils wide, irises swirling dark crimson, I felt my breath return to my chest.   
HIs lips curled, into the smirk that I knew so well, yet there was something almost gentle behind his intense gaze, as he murmured, “I’ll be fine.”   
I realized, standing there, staring up at him, that Clary’s movements had ceased, and though her fingers were still wrapped firmly around my wrist, she was still, staring with interest, first at Sebastian, and then me, before she threw her head back and started to laugh.   
The sound was loud, echoing off the walls of the ballroom, and demented, crazy, almost, as she finally released me, stepping back slightly as she held her arms out wide at her sides, eyes large with discovery, as she cackled out, “Holy shit. You care about him. You care about the demon.” She laughed again, ducking her head for a moment, knife still held firmly in her hand. “Well, this is a development I did not see coming.”   
I stood, waiting for her to finish, motionless, in front of Sebastian, the man hovering at my side, yet not grabbing me, waiting for his mistress’s commands.   
Finally, Clary collected herself, and wiping at her eyes, mirth still evident in the lines around her mouth, she let out a long breath, sharp eyes refocusing on me, as she said smoothly, “This changes everything. Tell me, (F/N).” Clasping her hands behind her back, she began to pace the small length of the floor in front of me. “What would you do to keep the demon safe? What lengths would you go to to make sure I keep him from harm?”   
“I’m not playing your sick game, Clary.” I spat out, eyes following her movements warily, panic slowly beginning to fill my throat at her incessant line of questioning about Sebastian. “I’m not a pawn for you to use for your own amusement.”   
“You realize,” She continued, steepling her fingers in front of her face, as she continued to pace, stepping around the congealing puddles of Sebastian’s blood that darkened the floor. “That as a demon, he feels no emotion? That he will never, ever, care about you in return?” She paused, coming to stand in front of me once again, eyes darkened with deranged interest. “You realize, that though you say you are not my pawn, you are most definitely one of his, yes?”   
I pressed my lips into a thin line, refusing to answer her question, and after a moment of silence, she sighed heavily, twirling the dagger between her fingers, watching the metal flash in the candlelight before she said, voice lowered, “Fine. Let’s play another game then.” Her gaze met my own, her expression unreadable. “The dagger he gave you. Retrieve it.”   
“How do you know about that?” I asked in disbelief, hand dropping down to my thigh and going protectively over the dagger hidden there.   
“I know many things, (F/N). Many things.” Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she motioned with her fingers to my own hand, still covering the dagger. “Come on. Show it to me.”   
Reluctantly, eyes never leaving her face, I pulled back the fabric of my overcoat and pulled out the dagger from its sheath, the engraved leaves and vines on the blade glinting and flashing in the flickering light from the candles, as I hesitated, before pressing the knife into her outstretched palm.   
She lifted the dagger to the light, her own forgotten, as she studied the blade and handle, letting out a low whistle beneath her breath as she flashed Sebastian a look of appreciation. “It’s a beautiful blade, demon, I’ll give you that much credit. You know your daggers.”   
Studying the knife for one more brief moment, she tossed it back to me, hands going once again behind her back, as she flicked long blonde hair over her shoulder, and eyes locked with mine, waved behind her, toward Ciel, silent and motionless, still held by the two men across the length of the ballroom.   
“Kill Ciel Phantomhive.”   
“Excuse me?” I choked out, caught off guard by her casually uttered statement.  
She crossed to stand in front of me, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, almost in an affectionate manner, as she said, softer this time, “Kill Ciel Phantomhive. And I’ll let you and your demon lover go.”   
Almost unbidden, my eyes flicked past her to the stone like form of the young boy on the other side of the room, and then, up to Sebastian, his face expressionless, although, I could tell, by the slight lines around the stern line of his mouth, that her request had pained him, even though he would never admit it.   
“No.” I said loudly, resolutely, as I dropped the dagger at her feet. Her eyes widened slightly, as if she had expected me to take her offer with no holds barred, and I felt slight satisfaction at her look of shock.   
She took in a deep breath through her nose, and when she spoke again, there was shattered patience in her voice, as if she was trying to be long suffered with an ill behaved child, but annoyance was beginning to slip through, “Let me explain something to you, (F/N).” She picked up the discarded dagger, testing the point of the blade with the pad of her finger. “You care about the demon, yes? Then kill Ciel Phantomhive, do this one thing, and I’ll let you both go. You can be with him, even though you’re nothing more than his play thing, for eternity or whatever shit they ordain in hell.” Her eyes flashed, before she reigned in her irritation once again, forcing her lips into something akin to a smile, as her voice lowered, “Kill Ciel Phantomhive, and you can have the demon. Don’t kill the boy, and I’ll kill you all, right here, right now, and I’ll make sure you watch them both suffer before I take care of you last.”   
“Oh, I understood your offer the first time.” I replied calmly, the annoyance flashing more boldly across her face at my unruffled words. “But my answer is still no.”   
Her eyes darkened, and the calm facade Clary had been hiding behind cracked, as she hissed out between clenched teeth, pretty face twisting into a look of unadulterated rage, my dagger clenched in a whitening fist, “You little bitch. Why?”   
“Because, if I care about Sebastian the way you say I do,” I remained cool in the face of her anger, eyes never leaving her face, voice unwavering, “Then the last thing I would do to him is take Ciel Phantomhive out of his life.”   
“Why?” She growled again, clearly not understanding what I was saying, as her fingers flexed, over and over, around the dagger in her hand.   
“They’re all each other has left.” I replied simply, the truth of what I was saying resonating in my core, as I raised my chin, looking directly into Clary’s soul, daring her to act on her anger. “You say demons don’t experience emotion, they don’t feel, but you’re wrong, Clary. Sebastian cares about Ciel Phantomhive, and that brat, though I may dislike him, cares about Sebastian. And if I care about Sebastian, which I do, then I need to make sure Ciel Phantomhive gets out of this little game of yours alive.”   
“You bitch.” Clary repeated, her voice shaking, body trembling with rage, and I saw, in her eyes, in the moment, that she knew, I had ruined her game. It was all crumbling around her. Nothing was going to plan.   
And she hated it.   
Lunging toward me, Clary’s boot connected soundly with my stomach, and I coiled into myself from the impact, going down on hands and knees, as I coughed, trying to catch my lost breath. My heart was pounding loudly in my ears, and I didn’t have time to react, as Clary continued her assault, stalking toward my downed figure, eyes burning, as she kicked me again, sending me skittering uselessly across the tile of the floor.   
I pushed myself back up onto my knees, as she continued toward me, a maniacal smile beginning to take place on her face, as she called out, voice frenzied, “When will you learn, (F/N), to just,” She hit me across the face with the hilt of the dagger, sending me sprawling once again, yet she didn’t stop, as she dragged me upward again by the collar of my coat, forcing me to meet her insane gaze, as she continued between clenched teeth, “stay,” She kneed me, for the third time in the stomach, but didn’t let me drop from the impact, holding my limp body in her hands as she grinned down at me, “down?”   
My nose was bleeding, the crimson liquid dripping warm, down across my lips and onto the front of my coat, and I spit in her face, the saliva coppery in my mouth as the blood mixed with the spittle that coated her face, as I grunted out, “Go to hell.”   
“Oh, don’t worry.” She released one of her hands from the collar of my coat, swiping it across her face, removing my spit from her skin, the grin dropping slightly into something more serious, more deadly, more angry. “I’ll be sure to tell your little demon to give his regards when I send him back there.”   
And then, before I had time to react, she lifted the dagger, the dagger that Sebastian had gifted me, still clenched in her first, her knuckles white, and drove it into my stomach.   
My mouth fell open as the knife buried up to the hilt in my flesh and muscle and organs, the pain not kicking in for a moment, as I stared into the eyes of the woman in front of me, the evil, smug smile once again tugging at her lips, as she released her hold on my coat, letting me fall back away from her.   
I stumbled backwards and fell to my hands and knees on the floor, mouth still gaping like a landed fish, as I struggled to breathe. I glanced down at the dagger, the blade out of sight inside of me, and noted, numbly, hazily, that blood, my blood, was dripping down the hilt in scarlet streams and puddling on the tile beneath my body. I coughed, once, violently, and my spit was speckled with more of the crimson liquid, copper and bitter and violent on my tongue.   
“That was almost too easy.” Clary mused, watching me for another brief moment through half lidded eyes, as she turned on her heel, once again headed toward Sebastian, another knife pulled from the folds of her gown, and I heard her say, her voice sounding as if it were underwater through the blood rushing loudly in my ears, “Now. Let’s take care of you next, demon.”   
“No.” I groaned out weakly, scrabbling against the floor in an effort to rise, all energy quickly being sapped from my body as the blood continued to seep out of me. I managed to get up to one knee, and said stronger, louder this time, my foggy vision focused on Clary’s retreating form, “No!”   
She paused, midstep, and turning slowly, her eyes flashing with hot anger, mouth twisting in displeasure, she asked in a low, warning tone, “What did you just say?”   
“I said,” I pushed myself up on to my other knee, the knife, still embedded in my stomach, burning and burying deeper with every movement I made. Blood was pooling in the corners of my mouth, and I spit on the floor, trying to rid my mouth of the liquid that was making my tongue thick, before I met Clary’s rage filled glared once again, straightening slightly as I said firmly, “No.”   
“That’s what I thought you said.” Clary began to walk toward me once again, eyes dark and teeth pulled back to bare her teeth in a menacing manner. “Like I said, you never know when to quit, do you (F/N)? Just,” She took another step. “Stay,” She held up the second dagger, eyes glinting with something manic as she reached me. “Down!”   
And then, in a flash of movement, using the last of my meager strength, and before she could bring her knife down on me, I surged to my feet, and ripping the ornamental dagger from my stomach in one smooth movement, I sunk the knife directly into Mory’s stomach, just as she had done to me only moments before.   
I stood there, holding the hilt, buried in her vital organs, as her mouth fell open, and her fist, holding the second dagger, opened reflexively, dropping the knife with a clatter at her feet, as a trickle of blood, burgundy and shining, dribbled from her mouth and down her chin.   
“You….bitch.” She choked out, spewing bloodied spittle into my face, as she stumbled over her words, already sagging, eyes wide with disbelief as she stared down at the hilt of the knife protruding from her abdomen, my blood covered knuckles wrapped firmly around the offending weapon.   
I leaned toward her, putting my lips to her ear, the wound in my own stomach bleeding profusely, our blood mixing and falling to the floor at our feet like some macabre waterfall, and then, before I released her and let her fall, I whispered, my voice laced with a balance of hatred and triumph, “I guess you’ll just have to give my regards in Hell yourself.”   
I shoved her away from me, and she stumbled and fell backward, grappling on the floor for a moment, her hands, blood stained nails, waving uselessly around her body, and then she was still, and it was silent.   
And my legs were buckling beneath my weight once again, and everything was out of focus, and blackness was seeping into the edges of my vision, my mouth filled with the taste of my own blood, and just before I passed out, I heard someone calling my name, and then, I was sure that it was just my own fevered imagination in the moments just before death, but I swore I heard a very familiar voice-velvety and low and slightly annoyed-utter one last statement as I slipped into unconsciousness.  
“I care about you too, you idiot.”


	21. Explanations and Restitution

The first thing I was aware of when I came to, was how absolutely dry my mouth and throat were, and the second, as I managed to crack open my eyes, was that I was once again back in my room at Phantomhive Manor.   
“You’re lucky I was right about you being only partially human. A wound like that would have killed anyone else.”  
My gaze snapped over to the corner of the room at Sebastian’s voice, tone low and soft, to where he was standing, leaning against the solid wood of the boudoir, watching me with shining crimson eyes, bright in the limited light seeping underneath the drawn curtains.   
I groaned in response, shifting upward in the bed, and lifting the satin comforter, I peered down at my middle, hesitantly pulling back my nightgown to reveal my abdomen. I gasped quietly to myself, at the sight of the unbroken skin, only marred by a large scar-still red and angry and pulsing-but a scar nonetheless. The wound, given probably a day earlier, if my sense of time was any indicator, still should have been bleeding and unclosed, wrapped tightly beneath a layer of thick gauze.   
Wincing slightly as I draped the fabric back over the sensitive injury, my gaze was drawn back up to Sebastian, who had crossed the room during my perusal, seating himself on the side of the bed, his eyes still scanning my face.   
Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable, and my fingers started to fumble with the ties on the comforter, as I asked, “Why aren’t you with Ciel?”   
“The young lord had to attend to the Queen for a few days in London. She wanted his full report on what transpired.” Sebastian’s voice held a slightly dry edge, as if he didn’t think the trip was worth his master’s time and effort.   
Still not looking up at him, fingers fiddling on the quilt, I asked again, tone now slightly confrontational, “And you didn’t go with him? I thought you two were always inseparable.”   
“He and I both agreed that it was more imperative for me to stay here while he was gone and watch over the…..” Sebastian paused, hesitating over his words, and I finally glanced up at him, something unreadable coming into his gaze as he finished casually, “house.”   
I stared at him for another moment, a sudden flare of anger rising in my stomach, catching me off guard, as I recalled Clary’s words to me a day earlier, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, words holding a sharp edge, “You lied to me.”   
A brief flash of confusion could be seen on Sebastian’s features, but just as quickly, he was calm and unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line in the face of my rising anger, as he said simply, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”   
“Like hell you don’t.” I pushed myself farther up into the bed, back stiff and straight, as I glared at him, head on, not wavering as is scarlet, swirling eyes connected with my own. “You lied to me, Sebastian. You told me that my powers had no effect on you.” I paused for breath, trying to control the absolute rage that was licking at my insides, before I continued. “That was a lie. Absolute bullshit. My powers affect you, just like any other. And by letting me touch you, they didn’t not affect you, you just built a wall against them to keep them out. To keep me from burning you.”   
He watched me, gaze steady, as I took in a sharp breath, and when it was clear that I had nothing else to say in the moment, he sighed, slender brows crinkling together, as he said gently, “I didn’t lie to you. You didn’t burn me. And whether that was thanks to my own power, or something else entirely, it wasn’t a lie that you could touch me, when you cannot even dare to approach anyone else.”   
“Why?” I asked, fire gone from my tone, voice sounding almost pathetic, as I asked him the question that had been gnawing at me since I awoke. “Why did you do it? Why did you let me touch you, when it wasn’t easy for you?”   
He paused, the silence stretching between us, like that bloody, crimson thread that always connected us, no matter the cost, and finally, his voice sullen and low, he responded with a sigh, “I don’t know.”   
The anger, the rage, the fury, was back, and burning brightly at his words, and without thinking, I threw the blanket off of my legs, ignoring the pain in my freshly healed wound, as I slid out of the bed, ignoring the look of surprise Sebastian shot in my direction, as I stood tall and straight and proud before him, tile cold beneath my bare feet, lips pressed together, as I said between clenched teeth, “Fine. Don’t worry about the reasoning, because it won’t be happening ever again. I’m not going to touch you anymore. Not now. Not when I know it causes you pain and distress.”   
Surprise, once again, appeared on his porcelain, perfect features, eyes widening beneath the dark fringe of his bangs, at my words, but before he could counter my ultimatum, I stormed into the bathroom, and slamming the door behind me, stood in front of the mirror, palms pressed flat against the cool porcelain, as my chest heaved with angry breaths.   
He couldn’t jerk me around like this. I wasn’t his pawn, and this wasn’t his game. I too, knew how to control the chess board.   
Taking in a deep breath through my nose, I straightened, wincing slightly now that I was out of Sebastian’s sight, at the pull from my abdomen, and glancing toward the tub, I realized that Mey Rin must have filled up the large vestibule for me while I was still asleep.   
The air of the bathroom, now that I took notice, was warm and balmy with steam, and the tub was full to the brim with steaming water, petals and pearls of scent floating and shimmering on the gently lapping surface, filling the room with the smell of wafting perfume.   
Slipping from the thin fabric of my dressing gown, I wasted no time submerging my body into the hot water, letting out a content sigh as the liquid washed away everything from my skin-exhaustion, anger, the dried blood from the day before, the confused feelings about Sebastian.   
Speak of the demon.   
As if my thoughts to myself had summoned him, the door to the bathroom opened, and closing it quickly behind him to reserve the heat, the dark, suit clad figure of Sebastian appeared through the haze from the steam, leaning against the marble of the dressing table, as I did my best not to look in his direction, blatantly ignoring him as I sunk deeper into the warm and welcoming arms of the bath.   
After another moment of brief silence, the only sound the water lapping at the edges of its porcelain container, Sebastian spoke, his voice curious, head cocked like an interested cat, as he watched me intently with fuschia eyes brimming with questions, “I get the feeling that I’ve made you angry with me.”   
“Wow.” I scoffed, lifting up one of my hands to play with the opalescent rings of oil on the top of the bath water, still not looking at him as annoyance clawed its way into my chest at his words. “A demon who can read the emotions of a human. How impressive.”   
“So you are angry with me.” He stated, not a question, as he stepped closer to the bath, crouching down beside the edge on his haunches, so close, that I could smell his familiar scent over the strong notes of rose and lavender given off by the bath, a scent that instantly made me shiver, even though I was far from cold.   
“Of course I’m angry with you.” I exclaimed, finally turning to face him, my eyes meeting his own over the lip of the tub, as I shot him what I hoped was a stinging glare. “You lied to me.”   
He raised a dark brow, seemingly surprised that I was bringing this up once again. “I did what I thought was best for you.”   
“Oh, right.” I said dryly, popping a bubble on the surface of the water, bitterness rising into my throat. “Everyone, my whole life, has always been lying and trying to pass it off for ‘what’s best for me.’” My voice rose in volume, the anger warming my insides once again. “Did you know, Sebastian, that that’s a human phrase? It’s human for ‘this is going to hurt you, and maybe destroy you, but to make myself feel better, so the guilt doesn’t consume me, I’m going to tell you that it’s ‘what’s best for you.’”   
Sebastian shifted beside the tub, his hand, missing its usual white glove, I noticed absently, dropping into the warm bath water, as he drew circles into the liquid, before saying, tone level and calm, “I’m not a human though.”   
“That’s not the point.” I sighed in exasperation, throwing my hands up and splashing both of us with droplets of perfumed water, as I angrily accentuated my words with my hands. “Everyone has always lied to me. It started with my parents-saying that they could fix me, that everything would be fine. And then, it was the priests-telling me that it wouldn’t hurt, and that this was the only way to be free.” I paused, sucking in a deep breath, before my voice dropped slightly, growing more pained by the second as I continued, finally meeting Sebastian’s bloodied gaze once again. “And then, you. You lied to me-telling me that I couldn’t hurt you, that my touch had no effect on you. And I can't,” I hesitated, reconsidering my words, before I said strongly, “No, I won’t be lied to anymore. Not ever again.”   
There was tense silence between us as I finished, and sinking, once again, into the water, I closed my eyes tiredly, waiting to hear Sebastian’s footsteps leaving the bathroom, waiting to hear him leave this time, for good, as he realized, suddenly, with clarity, how much of a shit show I was.   
“I’m not a human, (Y/N).”   
I sighed, the sound rife with exhaustion, as I screwed my eyes closed tighter at his words, spoken softly over the lapping water, as I groaned out, “I know, Sebastian. You already said that.”   
“No.” His voice was firm and insistent, and held a sharp edge that made me open my eyes and look over at him, rolling my head along the edge of the tub, as his gaze, harsh and intense and swirling hotly fuschia, met my own with such power, that I lost my breath for a moment. “You’re not listening to me. I am not human. Thus, when I say that I did what was best for you, I truly mean it.” Something flashed across his eyes, and his voice gentled slightly, as his long fingers stilled their movements in the water. “That sentiment, coming from my lips, is not washed down, not convoluted, not tainted by ulterior motives of trying to hide my own guilt. It is simply what I said, I’m not hiding anything behind my words, I’m not avoiding something, and I’m certainly not lying to you, when I tell you,” He paused, reaching up to rub at one of his temples with irritated jerks of his fingers, as if willing me to understand, really see, what he was telling me, “I did what I thought was best for you.”   
I felt breathless, watching him trying to convey something so deeply to me, and suddenly, I wasn’t angry anymore, as I reached out, laying my hand hesitantly over his own, resting on the lip of the tub, still damp from the warm bath water, as I asked softly, “So why then?”   
He sighed, a heavy, human like sound, and his fingers went between my own, playing with my hand, as he said, voice like velvet, dark and unsure, “I don’t know.” He shrugged slightly, bringing his gaze up to mine, much more understanding now, and his lips quirked, just a bit, into the hints of his customary smirk, as he murmured out, “I knew, something inside of me knew, that if I told you I had to build a wall to resist you, you wouldn’t touch me, you wouldn’t let yourself, you’d be too worried about me to act on your urges. Which,” He chuckled humorlessly, a dark sound that sent pleasant shivers curling up my spine. “I still don’t understand how a human cares about a demon, not after all this time, and I don’t know if I ever will.”   
I waited as he drifted into silence, still playing absentmindedly with my fingers at the edge of the tub, and taking in a breath, he smiled fully this time, sharp canines flashing against pink lips, as he murmured reluctantly beneath his breath, “You have always intrigued me, you caught my interest the very first night I met you, in that alley, running from the police.” He smirked, as I grimaced at the memory, and then continued, each word being pulled from his lips as if he hated to admit all of this to me, “However, over time, that intrigue that I didn’t understand, intrigue and obsession with a mere human, became something much more. Something that ate away at me constantly, something that made me want to give you everything you desired, even if that desire was to touch someone.” He shrugged slightly, and if demons could feel embarrassment, I would have swore that was what flashed across his face in that moment, as he finished dryly, clearing his throat. “There’s your why, I guess.”   
There was a moment of silence between us, his fingers cool against my own, flushed and softened and warm from the bath, and I bit my lip, watching him, his gaze distractedly playing with the rippling water, until finally, I murmured out, “Sebastian.”   
“Hmmm.” He hummed under his breath, still not looking up at me, but letting me know he had heard his name fall from my lips.   
Reaching out with my free hand before I could stop myself, I slid a finger under his chin and when his gaze, swirling and hot and crimson, met my own, I pushed down the sudden swarm of butterflies in my stomach, as I said simply, gently, firmly, “Thank you.”   
HIs gaze held my own, his face blank, as if he were trying to understand my words, and then, his lips curved upward into the hint of smile, as he asked smoothly, a hint of amusement in his dark tone, “I take it that means you’re not angry with me any longer?”   
“Wow.” I grinned, leaning back into the warm water of the tub as my eyes flashed with amusement and I snidely repeated my words from earlier, although this time, they were spoken with nothing but teasing, “A demon who can read the emotions of a human. So impressive.”   
“You’re not a human, my lady.” Sebastian replied, his own tone factual, as he pushed himself to his feet, straightening the lines of his crisp black suit, as he replaced his white gloves.   
Glancing up at him, hands idly playing with the perfumed water, I asked curiously, “So, what now?”   
He pushed back dark hair from his forehead, scarlet gaze flashing down to me at my question. “Rest, recover.” He motioned to me with a slender finger, and then continued, his tone returning to its normal velvet monotone, “Once the young master is returned from London, he will help you find who you seek.”   
My breath caught in my throat at his words, and I swallowed, trying to wet my dry mouth, hoping Sebastian hadn’t seen the sudden flash of emotion that had crossed my face.   
“You have upheld your end of the contract.” He smirked, the expression, though I had seen it now hundreds of times, still causing my insides to tighten into an apprehensive and expectant ball. “Now it is time that Lord Phantomhive holds up his.”   
He stepped toward the door, one hand on the brass doorknob, but I straightened, sitting up and making the water slosh around my naked body, as I called out, “Sebastian.” I watched him turn toward me, and suddenly feeling heat bloom into my cheeks under his intense stare, I breathed out, “Thank you. Again.”   
The hint of a smile graced his flawless, alabaster features, and he bowed his head slightly to me, before saying, “Get some rest, my lady.”   
And then, he was gone, and I was alone, once again, in the bathroom, with my thoughts.


	22. Nightmares of the Immortal

“When will you learn, (F/N)?” Clary’s voice was condescending, disappointed, as if I were a child and she the teacher, berating me for stepping out of line and doing something she disapproved of.   
I stared at her, trying to come to sense with what I was seeing, dagger clenched tightly in my white knuckled fist, as I watched her cautiously, an eye on her every movement, as she stalked circles around me, eyes glimmering with malice and sadistic amusement.   
“I know this isn’t real.” I stated carefully, my eyes never leaving hers. “You’re dead. I killed you myself.”   
“Ah, and see?” Clary tsked, coming to stand before me, hands folded neatly at her tiny waist, lips curling back in a pitying smile at my foolishness. “That’s what I’m talking about. You thought I was dead the first time, and was I?” She laughed, a tinkling sound that didn’t match the dangerous undertones of her words. “So how certain are you, (F/N), that you really, truly killed me this time?”   
Doubt crept into my mind, but I shook my head hard, closing my eyes momentarily to regain my lucid thoughts. “No. I’m not falling for your tricks, Clary.”   
“But you know who is really dead?” Clary continued as if she hadn’t heard me, brushing long blonde hair back off of her shoulder, as she grinned at me, stepping to the side to reveal something behind her with a theatrical flourish of her hand. “Every single one of the people you care about.”   
I could see clearly now, the dark forms behind Clary’s figure, strewed across the bloody ballroom floor like ragdolls, bodies twisted in unnatural positions, limbs at odd angles, unmoving.   
Ciel Phantomhive-his one, blue eye open, blank, staring, glazed, as blood continued to dribble slowly from his mouth-and Sebastian-black suit rumpled beyond recognition, pale skin scarlet with shed blood-and even Mey Rin-her dress ripped and torn, glasses shattered, eyes frozen in her last few moments, wide with fear.   
“You killed them. This is all your fault.” Clary was behind me now, speaking low into my ear, voice quivering with restrained glee. “All your fault, (F/N.”   
“No.” I choked out, my voice quivering suddenly, as my gaze was drawn back, again and again, to the bodies on the floor. “You’re lying.”   
She chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers running up my spine, before breathing out threateningly, “Am I though?”   
I sat up in the bed, gasping for air, clutching at the tangled comforter that entwined my body, sweat dripping down my temples, Clary’s words still echoing over and over in my head.   
Am I though?   
Gulping down lungfuls of hard breaths, chest heaving and mind racing, I reached up to press trembling fingers into my eyelids, as tears started to threaten, hot behind my now closed eyes, as I tried desperately to ground myself in reality.   
It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was…..  
“(F/N). Is everything all right?”   
“Shit!” I startled, dropping my hands from my face and opening my eyes at the voice beside the bed, blinking a few times as the previously darkened room, now bathed in candlelight, came into view once more.   
Sebastian was standing beside the bed, head cocked as he studied me, a candle held in one pale hand, and I could have sworn, a genuine look of worry on his normally cool features, as he asked softly, once again, “Is everything all right?”   
“Yeah, no.” I managed to say, swallowing to wet my dry mouth, as I narrowed my eyes to bring him into focus. “Just a bad dream.” I tried to compose myself, reaching up to smooth my messy bedhead, as I pulled the comforter up around my sheer nightgown. “Why are you here anyway?”   
A slight smile quirked the corners of his lips at my defensive question, and setting the candle down on the bedside table, he straightened, hands going behind his back as he said calmly, “I heard you cry out. I wanted to make sure everything was all right.”   
Hand creeping up beneath the safety of the blankets to press over my still pounding heart, I mustered everything within myself to keep my tone calm and blank as I replied back, “Yeah, well, it was just a bad dream. I’m fine. So you can go now.”   
“I think I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” Sebastian intoned, smirk still on his lips, at the look of shock and surprise that washed across my face at his words. He flicked black painted nails in my direction with a sense of nonchalance that I had never seen on him before. “Move over.”   
I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest, determined not to move, not to give into his commands, but as he started to slide beneath the warmth of the comforter, I had no other choice but to roll out of his way, as I protested hotly, “I didn’t ask you to stay, Sebastian!”   
“I know, my lady.” He replied simply, settling down beneath the blanket, arm behind his head on one of the pillows, and it occured to me, briefly, that it was a very human like pose for a demon to be in. “And I knew you wouldn’t, so I took matters into my own hands. Humans are oh so very stubborn, even when they know what’s good for them.”   
Snorting derisively under my breath, I curled into my side, facing away from the now reclining form of the demon beside me, determined, stubbornly, not to acknowledge his presence.   
We laid in silence for several long minutes, the only sound our breaths intermingling in the space between us, and although I was loathe to admit it, it was nice to have Sebastian beside me. Just the fact that another body was now in the large bed, made me feel more comfortable, and was succeeding in calming down my racing heartbeat.   
Finally, with a harsh roll of my eyes, I turned back over to face Sebastian.   
His eyes were closed, and though I knew he wasn’t asleep, he didn’t react to my movement. I studied him for a moment, in the quiet, taking the rare opportunity to look over his every feature-the ebony locks of hair that fell perfectly over his high brow, the porcelain pale skin without flaw, the dark line of his lashes resting against his cheekbones, the full, pink lips. I had to hand it to the demon, he certainly knew how to pick an attractive human form.   
“Like what you see?”   
Sebastian’s smug voice jolted me out of my thoughts, and my eyes flickered to his, now open and swirling crimson as they watched me, his ever present smirk now on full display on the lips I had just been admiring seconds before.   
Shooting him a glare, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush that covered my cheeks, I scoffed and then shot back, “No. And again, why are you here? How do I know demons even need to sleep anyway?”   
Sebastian chuckled, the sound sending a wave of pleasure through my stomach, which I tried to ignore, and when he spoke, his voice held a hint of amusement, as he claimed, “We sleep, (F/N).” And then, if he had been human, I swore he would have rolled his eyes at that moment, as he continued with a tone of slight distaste, “You’re thinking of vampires.”   
“Oh, my bad.” I retorted, once again meeting his gaze, pupils flashing bloody in the flickering light of the candle. “Excuse me for getting my supernatural creatures confused, oh mighty one.”   
“Careful.” Sebastian warned lightly, pushing himself up on his elbow to tower over me, reaching out with long fingers to brush some hair back from my cheekbone, pupils suddenly wide and dark with something I couldn’t quite place. “Making mistakes like that could be dangerous, my lady.”   
My breath was caught in my throat, his fingers still stroking lightly down the skin of my jaw, and I swallowed, trying to collect my sudden scrambled thoughts, before I managed to breathe out, “Oh? And how so?”   
I watched, stomach clenching expectantly, as Sebastian’s tongue flickered out to wet his lips, sharp canines flashing white in the dim light, before he smirked down at me, eyes darkening to fuschia, as his fingers traced a pattern down the skin of my neck, making me shiver slightly beneath his touch.   
“Demons do not enjoy being compared to lesser creatures.” He murmured, words slipping from his tongue like a waterfall of dark chocolate, fingers pausing at the base of my throat, resting in the hollow there, and I was sure, he could feel the pounding of my pulse, like a trapped bird, beneath his fingertips.   
Suddenly pulling back from me and breaking our contact, Sebastian laid back down beside me, arm going once again behind his head, as he let out a very humanlike sigh, before saying, voice calm and softened, “You should be sleeping, my lady.”   
Taking in a deep breath, heart once again pounding against my ribcage, but for an entirely different reason this time, I hesitated for a moment, watching Sebastian lying so close, so still, so quiet, and then, before I could stop myself, I scooted over beside him, closing the distance between us.   
Resting my head, carefully, cautiously, slowly, on his chest, I waited for him to protest the contact, but when he didn’t move, nor say anything in return, I allowed myself to relax beside him into the comfort of the mattress.   
Sebastian was warm to the touch, another thing that had surprised me when I had first felt his skin, and his heartbeat was loud and rhythmic in my ear, pressed against the firm planes of his chest, a comforting sound that was instantly successful at lulling me into a place of drowsiness.   
“Your heartbeat sounds so real.” I said, voice reflecting my exhaustion, words slightly slurred as sleep tried to claim me.   
“Hmmm.” Sebastian hummed in affirmation, the sound reverberating through his chest beneath my cheek, before he replied dryly, “Yes, well, demons are skilled illusionists.”   
“Do you always have a heartbeat? Is it just a side effect of having a human form?” I asked, eyes heavy and starting to close against my will.   
“No.” Sebastian responded, breath rustling my hair, as he shifted slightly beneath me, and I could have sworn, through the exhaustion that was making my mind cloudy, that he lowered his arm down around me in that moment. “I only use it when it’s needed.”   
Something in his words stirred me awake, and I struggled to comprehend what he was saying, as one of my hands, unbidden, came up to rest on his chest, said heartbeat thrumming beneath my fingertips. “Why do you have it now?”   
“Humans are comforted by the sound of another’s heartbeat, yes?” Sebastian mused, low voice velvet in my ear, even as the sound of his words rumbled in his chest.   
I laid there for a moment in silence following his statement, mouth slightly open, mind a flurry of frantic thoughts. He had made sure he had a heartbeat for me? So that I would feel comforted? That was an oddly human-like thing for a demon to do-worry about the comfort of another. And it caught me off guard.   
I bit my lip, trying to gather my thoughts, and deciding not to press the issue anymore, relishing in the warm feeling Sebastian’s words had brought to my chest, I instead said softly, “Humans must seem so weak and pathetic to you. Waking up from nightmares shivering and sweating and upset, all over the images of a dream that isn’t even reality.”   
“Not really.” Sebastian offered casually, his answer catching me by surprise, before he continued. “I mean, yes, Humans are pathetic and stupid and weak, but not for that reason, not because of nightmares, of dreams they cannot control.” I chose to ignore his blatant insults of the human race, in favor of seeing if he would continue, and I was not disappointed, as he murmured, voice suddenly serious, “Regardless of species, every creature is plagued by dreams, (F/N). Nightmares are not solely a human ailment.”   
Once again, the demon lying beside me had caught me wildly off guard, and I pondered his words, before I asked, slightly hesitant, fingers now playing with the buttons of his suit coat, “Have you ever had a nightmare, Sebastian?”   
He paused, seeming to consider the heaviness of my words, and then I felt his fingers start to trace a pattern up my spine beneath the thin fabric of my night shift, as he finally replied, “Yes, once or twice.”   
“Really?” I asked in surprise, as I turned my face to him, propping my chin on his chest so that I could meet his gaze, one dark eyebrow raised as he looked down at me in sudden amusement. “What were they about?”   
“Ah, well, you see, my lady,” Sebastian chuckled, although there wasn’t humor in the sound, instead, it was a sound that hinted at much darker things, a sound of someone who had seen things that were never to be repeated. “That I cannot tell you. Because when a demon, the fodder of human nightmares, dreams, he sees things that only a being cursed with immortal life can comprehend.” His lips twitched in the beginnings of a smirk at the look of disappointment that must have come across my face at his words. “If I told you, my dear little human, what I have seen in nightmares, you would never have a pleasant dream again.”   
Shutting his eyes, signalling the end of the conversation, I let out a sigh after watching him for another brief moment, and burying my face back in his chest, I waited several seconds, before I breathed out against the fabric of his coat, “Goodnight, Sebastian.”   
“Goodnight, my lady.”


	23. Price of Vengeance

Later that evening, I saw across from Sebastian in the swaying carriage, the only sound the wheels clattering loudly over the cobblestones, and the driver calling out commands to the horses, as the dark of the night flashed by the windows.   
“Are you nervous?”   
I glanced up, caught off guard by Sebastian’s question, to see the demon watching me shrewdly from where he sat, legs crossed primely in front of him, dark brow raised, as he considered me carefully.   
“Why would you think that?” I asked, suddenly defensive, as I shifted in my seat, pulling my overcoat down over the black leggings that adorned my legs.   
“You’re chewing your lip and tapping your nails on the window.” Sebastian pointed out casually, indicating my hand with his head as he did so, which was doing just as he said, nails tapping absentmindedly on the window in an unknown rhythm. “Isn’t that a trait of human behavior that signals you are nervous to others of your species?   
“No.” I bluffed, pulling the offending hand down into my lap and hiding it in the folds of my coat, as I studiously dropped my gaze from his, trying to ignore the slight smirk that crossed his lips at the sudden blush that was coming across my cheeks.   
Before I could retort anything else, the carriage came to a stop, and Sebastian glanced out his window, face suddenly serious, lips drawn into a thin line, as he said firmly, “We’re here.”   
He stood, pushing open the door of the carriage for me, as I took a moment to compose myself, taking a deep breath in through my nose and letting it out slowly past my lips, before I stood myself, and bowing my head in thanks to Sebastian, stepped down from the carriage.   
I glanced down the darkened lane, hidden behind wrought iron gates as Sebastian stepped up silently beside me, and could just barely make out the glimmering of light through bay windows coming from the house in the distance.   
“They’ve been in London this whole time.” I said with frustration, and it wasn’t a question, rather a statement of defeat and disappointment in myself.   
“You know.” Sebastian said quietly, and I glanced sideways at him, as he stood beside me, tall and quiet and straight, staring down the lane at the house that awaited us. “I find it hard to believe that someone as smart and efficient as you, when using your full talents and capabilities, could not locate them.” He leaned toward me, his voice dropping to a murmur in my ear, his breath warm as it skimmed my cheekbone, “Was it simply because you did not actually wish to find them?”   
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out, and I slowly closed it again, because he was right.   
I had searched for years, my anger and rage boiling in the pit of my stomach, the hatred throbbing in the scars that marred my back, pushing me forward and onward, but somewhere, somehow, deep down, there was a part of me, and Sebastian knew it, that hadn’t actually wanted to find them, to face them.   
“What has to be done.” Sebastian spoke again, his voice low and velvet and soothing, and I glanced down, as he pressed the ornate dagger he had given to me, into the palm of my hand, the metal cool and sharp against my skin, his fingers lingering on mine briefly before he pulled away, crimson eyes glowing back at me from the dark.   
I nodded stiffly. “Okay. I’m ready.”   
We skirted around the gate and walked in silence down the road, the gravel barely crunching beneath our shoes, the sounds of the night-owls and rustling trees and low wind-the only thing that could be heard as we headed in the direction of the house-now glowing brightly with candles in every window, and covered in stately cobblestone that glowed grey and slick in the moonlight.   
I rounded the corner of the house, careful to keep out of sight, but stopped in my tracks at the sudden view that lay before me.   
Through the large front window of the house, looking into what appeared to be a formal living room, were four figures, settled in various positions on the floor, gathered around a game board-a game I instantly recognized as Parcheezi.   
The littlest girl-with pink ribbons flowing down long blonde hair- said something to her father with a large grin, and he laughed, his dark mustache bobbing, as he adjusted his waistcoat before patting her affectionately on the head.   
The older girl-darker than her fairer younger sister-seriously rolled the dice across the board, and the mother, who sat beside her, leaned forward to see, her blue gown pooling around her legs, light hair falling across her forehead as a smile lit up her pretty features.   
I stood there, watching them, Sebastian silent beside me, for what felt like eternities, but must have only been a few, breathless moments, before he I shook my head, and backing away from the window, I collapsed against the cool stone wall of the house around the corner, suddenly feeling as if I couldn’t breathe and my heart was going to pound out of my chest.   
“I can’t do it.” I gasped out, leaning over and planting my hands on my knees to try and ease my breathing, aware that Sebastian, who was watching me blankly, would not understand what I was about to say. “I can’t.”   
Sebastin crouched before me, reaching out carefully to pick up the dagger I had discarded at my feet, and twirling the weapon between his fingers easily for several seconds, his scarlet eyes finally lifted to my face, and when he finally spoke, I was surprised to hear the gentleness in his tone. “(F/N), are you doing this because of the children? Don’t spare the wicked simply because they have changed. That doesn’t change the hatred, the anger that you feel toward them, the justice that you deserve from them.”   
I shook my head once more, my gaze meeting his through the darkness, as I struggled to explain in a way that he would understand. “I can’t, Sebastian. I’ve spent my whole life living with the absolute agony that their choices brought to me. My parents deserve to die for what they put me through,” I straightened, my weak voice growing more confident as I looked down at the demon at my feet. “But those girls do not deserve to live with the scars and agony my choice will put them through.”   
Sebastian studied me for another silent moment, and then standing up, he stepped toward me, forcing me back once again against the cold wall, as he leaned forward to slip the dagger back into the sheath against my thigh. “I don’t understand your decision.” He turned his head to look at me, fuschia flashing brighter in his irises as our eyes met, and he reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair back from my temple as a slight smirk graced his lips, revealing his pointed canines, in only for a second. “However, like I said, you have a strange way of making me want to understand.”   
“Thank you Sebastian.” I breathed out, his fingers dropping from my hairline to trace across my cheekbone and down my jawline, sending shivers across my skin at his touch.   
“Intriguing.” Sebastian murmured beneath his breath, his eyes once again locking with mine, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me, but he broke contact just as suddenly as he had made it, and stepping back from me, his face growing slightly thoughtful, he said, “And now that I think about it, your parents were just stupid humans, like all the rest, following a twisted and corrupt belief system that they’ve had pounded into their heads all their lives, ruling over them with an iron fist,” The smirk widened on his lips. “And far more dangerous than any demon or devil they’ve ever feared.”   
“Sebastian…” I drew out his name, waiting for him to explain what he was talking about.   
He grinned at me, teeth flashing white in the darkness, eyes suddenly more bloody than before, if that was possible, and when he spoke, his voice was dark and deadly and dangerous.   
“If you can trust me, my lady, I think we can save this night yet.” He reached for my hand, our gloved fingers threading together without a second thought as I let him lead me away from the house. “I do believe I’ve thought of someone far more worthy of your vengeance, and I think you’ll agree with me.”


End file.
